The Night After Christmas
by Spruceton Spook
Summary: Ash and Co. are home for the holidays in Pallet, ready for a great Christmas with lots of fun, family, and hectic decorating. But after an unbelievable event occurs, it might turn out to be the worst Christmas of them all! Elder, Rocketshippy
1. Part 1

(Pallet Town Presents)

**The Night After Christmas**

by Spruceton Spook

Part 1

**T**he fresh scent of evergreen met with the delightful aroma of baking cookies, clashing to create a most distinguishable, cherished smell. The once bright sky was now washed over a dull gray color, letting the flickering, pleasant hue of the crackling fire light the room as the late afternoon assuredly approached. The stereo made a swirling, spinning noise, and the record that had just ended with the melodious echoing of_ "Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas…"_ shot back to the first track, giving rise to the spirited jingling of bells.

It was the ideal setting for the perfect mood of relaxation, happiness, and amenity. A frame of mind that anyone could place themselves in, bask in with immense ecstasy and joy, and truly welcome the unmistakably wonderful feeling of the holidays. It was a time for tranquility, a time for no worries and of repose, of nothing but sheer indulgence and quiet.

If only it were that way…

"What are you _doing?!_ Get down!"

"No, I got it! Just hold me up, okay?"

"Ash, you're gonna knock the tree over! Give it to Brock, please."

"No! I'm up here now, let's just get it done!"

"Yeah, but the tree is tilting!"

"It's going to go through the window! Get down!"

"But I almost got it! C'mon, support me!"

"No, get down! Let Brock do it!"

"Uh, wait, look…he's got it."

"He does? Get outta here."

"See? Told ya I could get it up!"

"Yeah, but you almost killed yourself in the process."

"Nah, I didn't… Pikachu, get out of the ornament box!"

"_Pika_!"

With a slight shake of her head and a deep sigh, Delia Ketchum smiled. It had been this way for the past half hour, ever since she and the three boisterous kids that had popped in for the holidays nearly a month ago had dragged in the seven-foot tree. First had been the ordeal of getting it through the patio doors, then to painstakingly get it to stand. She had helped with that, as she had done many years beforehand, but for the first time in what seemed like ages, she was not participating with the decorating. Ash, Misty, and Brock could handle that.

Not that she minded, however. With her favorite Christmas songs filling the air and performing the ever ambrosial job of making the cookies her son utterly desired, she couldn't have been happier. The house was alive again, filled with laughter, screams, and excitement. Not to mention, of course, the pleasing sounds of Christmas: the bells, the songs, the swishing of the fir tree's branches. Delia loved it all, and she was perfectly content as she listened to the tumult going on in the next room. If anything, _that_ was the sound of Christmas.

As Delia plopped another glob of cookie-dough onto the umpteenth sheet, her little son rummaged through an old turkey box full of tangled green wires. Ash yanked them out, and stared oddly at the ball of clinking, little lights in his hand.

"Nice lights," Misty commented, giving them a smirk.

Ash sneered playfully at her, grabbed for a loose end, and threw the remaining ball to Brock.

"All we have to do is pull," Ash replied confidently. "They'll come loose."

Misty grinned, bending over to give her Togepi that sat on the couch a quick little tickle on his front spike. "This will be fun to watch, won't it, Togepi?"

"Priii!"

Ash gave her a face, but it was harmless. "'Kay, Brock, pull."

Brock did, and instantly the ball came halfway undone. Tiny knots still dotted along the wire, as did a huge clump in the center, but as the boys continued to prod at it, it was slowly getting there. Misty watched the whole thing with a taunting cock of her eye, ever so often flashing her pearly whites in an amused smile. Ash and Brock giggled as they tugged at the wire, letting out small cheers as each knot came out.

As the pulling resumed, Brock couldn't help but give narrowing looks to the red-haired girl standing there casually, her arms crossed and her head bouncing back and forth to the lively, yet numbing repetitious tune of _Jingle Bells_. She was having too much fun witnessing this, he figured, and he nudged Ash's leg with a swift twitch of his foot.

Ash looked confused at the action, but Brock just smiled as his attention turned to Misty.

"Hey, Misty, we could use your help," he told her, beckoning her over with a wiggle of his finger.

Misty laughed. "What?" she asked, cautiously shuffling over to him.

Ash was still unaware of what was going on in his friend's mind, but he quickly caught on as Brock made the first pounce, throwing the loose strand of bulbs around Misty and yanking it tight. Misty let out a surprised, yet enrapt screech as Brock ran around her in energetic circles, pinning her arms to her sides tauter with every round. Ash began to laugh rambunctiously, and in a flash simulated Brock's sneaky little prank.

They ran in opposing circles around the poor girl, who could barely handle her laughter anymore. Misty was all smiles as she struggled to escape the confines of the Christmas lights, watching Ash and Brock spin about her dizzily.

"Guys! Cut it out!" she chortled helplessly, hopping up and down in place as it was the only movement she could make. "Let me out!"

"No way!" Ash sang, now beginning to skip around her, his tongue hanging floppily out of his mouth.

"You had to make fun of us," Brock lamented, shaking his head and looking disappointed.

Misty put on a playful pout and hopped some more. "C'mon, guys!"

But the torture further proceeded as Brock grabbed the plug of the lights and thrust it into the wall socket. In an instant, Misty lit up with a sparkling array of reds, blues, yellows, and greens, inducing her to growl with agitation. The eruption of laughter from her two friends didn't help it much.

"Aw, you look so _pwetty_, Misty," Brock gurgled, holding his face in his hands satisfyingly.

"I think we should forget about the other tree, Brock," Ash smiled. "Let's prop Misty up in the window!"

Brock nodded. "Heehee, yeah."

_"Guys!"_ Misty groaned, a wearied smile still pulling at her lips. She tried to shake free of the lights, first lightly and then violently, and limped, defeated. "It's not funny anymore! Let me loose now."

Ash and Brock exchanged a look of question.

"Oh, I dunno, Misty," Brock shrugged. "Me 'n' Ash kinda like ya better this way."

"Yeah, we can torture you all we want, and you can do _nothing_ about it!" Ash cried.

"Ooh, what is this?" With a pleasant rise of his eyes, Brock stooped down to scoop something out of the ornament box. Misty nearly gasped when she saw what it was.

Brock jiggled the spiky, green plastic plant in front of his eyes, grinning with every mischievous muscle his face contained. He showed it to Ash, who looked just as scheming as he did.

"Will this do, Ash?" Brock asked of approval, twirling the fake mistletoe around.

"I believe so, Brocko," Ash replied.

Bearing his teeth in an evil grin, Brock edged his way over to Misty, holding the dreaded plant above his head.

"Ack! Get away from me!" Misty screamed, laughing at the same time. She tried to jump out of the way, but the lights wrapped around her restrained her and she nearly tripped. Brock threateningly, slowly came at her. "No, get away! Brock, I mean it! I'm going to kill you when I get out of this! Keep away! Oh, c'mon, Brock! No! I swear, don't you come near me! I mean it! Brock! _Mrs. Ketchum!_"

Delia had heard the ruckus from the kitchen, and with a grin, threw her cooking mitts down to the table. She entered the living room and leaned on the frame of the door, looking out at the scene, her arms folded in front of her. Brock stopped his chase and smiled, as did Ash, while Misty hopped around to face her.

"Mrs. Ketchum, help me!" she begged, bouncing around with more giddy pouts.

Delia couldn't hold in her snickers as she saw the illuminated Misty, and waltzed into the living room. Misty's eyes were wide with hope, finally glad that she was going to be rescued from the incisive torment. She followed Delia as she walked past her, giving Ash and Brock a nod.

"Look, boys," Delia said gently, "if you insist on doing something like this to poor Misty, you might as well do it right."

Ash and Brock grinned as Delia grasped a handful of shiny, glass ornaments from the box and proceeded to idly attach them to the wire encircled Misty. Misty's eyes narrowed yet again as her stance as a human Christmas tree brought on more laughs from the two boys, as well as an amused chuckle from Delia. Stepping back to admire her work, she nodded proudly and patted Ash and Brock on the back.

"There you go, guys," she said. "_That's_ the way you do it."

Misty just grunted, while Togepi laughed gleefully. "_Very_ funny."

Her devious work completed, Delia returned to the kitchen as the piercing dings of the oven went off, signaling that the cookies were done. Ash and Brock had finally relented and let Misty go, and they went right back to work on the tree. As she pulled out the sheet of golden brown cookies, Delia had to roll her eyes as the chaos continued.

"Ash, what are you _doing?_ You don't put the tinsel on first!"

"Yes, I do!"

"Are you insane? And you're not even putting in on, you're throwing it on!"

"It looks cool that way!"

Misty was laughing zealously. "Oh my God, you're crazy! Hey…stop it! Ash, you put the lights on first! And then the ornaments!"

"Says who?!"

"I do! H-hey! Don't throw the tinsel at me! Oh, _that's it!_"

Ash's laughter joined with Misty's, and the house began to shake as the pounding of feet resounded.

"That's it, Misty! Get 'im!" hollered Brock, who had joined in on the chase, evident in the way the horseplay suddenly doubled in intensity. The laughing turned into screams of amusement, chasing, and playful roughhousing.

As a shove and the clunk of a body being pushed into the ornament box could be heard, Delia cringed. "Hey, calm down in there! I don't want anything broken!" she shouted, though she was still smiling. It was just something she couldn't help, as part of her even yearned to go in there and have fun, too.

"Haha, your mom yelled at you!" Misty ridiculed, her voice sounding garbled as a result of the guffawing.

The box shuffled again, signifying Ash had been the poor victim of that crash. "She did not, she was yelling at you!"

"No she wasn't!"

"Yes she was!"

"No she wasn't!"

"Yes she was!"

"Shut up! She was yelling at _both_ you guys!"

"Pika_chu_…"

The commotion settled, but just as quiet returned and another batch of cookies was placed in a tin dressed with green and red napkins, the phone rang. Delia shook her head, wondering if peace and quiet were ever going to be the features of the night. It chimed loudly above the floating music, and throwing her hair back with a swish, Delia picked up the cordless and shoved it between her chin and shoulder.

"H'llo?"

"Hi, Delia." The temperate voice at the end of the line made Delia's eyes widen with excitement.

"Oh my gosh, Professor, hi!" she replied, quickly throwing a glance out into the living room. Ash, Misty, and Brock were now calmly passing the lights to each other, wrapping it around the tree with careful precision. She slinked back into the kitchen and held the phone close to her lips.

"Did you get it?" she whispered, stimulated, feeling herself become jumpy with anticipation.

Professor Oak chuckled at the other end. "Yes. It just came a moment ago."

"Yes!" Delia beamed, clutching her fists. Relief, as well as happiness, swept through her. "That's great!"

"And wait till you see it," Professor Oak said, sounding almost as excited as she was. "You'll be so pleased."

Delia could hardly contain herself any longer. A smile stretching from ear to ear, she twitched. She had waiting enough, that was for sure, a month or so to be exact, and now that the arrival had come, she didn't want to hesitate a moment later.

"I'll be over in one minute," she mumbled into the phone.

"Really?" Professor Oak sounded surprised. "You want it already?"

Delia's face wrinkled. "It's two days before Christmas!" she exclaimed. "Sure, I do. I mean, it's mine, right?"

The professor laughed. "I suppose that's true. Though it won't be for long."

"I know," Delia replied. Suddenly, another dinging of the stove sounded, and her head shot up. "All right, I'll be there as soon as I can. Just need to get these cookies out, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said reassuringly, his voice in a calming tone. "Take your time."

Smiling, Delia pulled the stove open to be met with a powerful blast of heat and the aroma of freshly-baked cookies. "Okay," she answered. "See ya soon."

"Bye-bye."

"Bye."

Pulling the phone out from under her chin, Delia turned it off, and set the last pan on the stove. She hopped about the kitchen on her toes, taking care of one thing after the other in a hurried fashion. She wanted to get out, wanted to get to Professor Oak's. Her heart raced, and to her, nothing was going to get done fast enough for her to get out of there. With a sigh, she scraped the last cookies into a plate to set on the table, which the kids would no doubt devour in no time, tore her apron off, and sprung to the living room.

"Hey, Mom," Ash grinned, tilting his head as he watched her grab for her coat. He was crouched down near the base of the tree and adjusting the last string of lights. "Are the cookies ready? Where are you going?"

"Oh, just to Professor Oak's for a moment," she replied, zipping her coat up. "I'll be home before you know it. Cookies are on the table."

"Why you going there?" Ash asked, giving her a puzzled look. He dropped the lights, much to Misty and Brock's agitation. Misty clearly showed hers by giving him a forceful shove forward. Ash didn't seem to pay attention.

"I'm getting a Pokémon license."

Ash narrowed his eyes at her. "You are not!" he giggled. "No, why are you going there?"

His mother took a deep breath. "We don't have enough lights, so I'm going to steal some off his bushes," she answered, already opening the door to leave.

"Mom!"

"All right, all right," she grumbled, facetiously aggravated. "We're going to discuss how to get you to quit training and get you back to school. There, you got it out of me. Can I _leave _now?"

"_Mama!_"

Delia rolled her eyes. "Ash, give me a break! Professor Oak just has something for me that I have to get, okay? What's the big deal? Goodness, you're nosy."

Ash blushed, slumping relaxingly. Delia smiled, pulling her gloves on in preparation for the nippy weather outside. "Just keep working on the tree, all right? I want it to be really pretty."

"We will," Misty replied, then giving Ash a sneer. "If _someone_ would cooperate!"

Ash turned to her and scowled. "Hey, I'm cooperating! You just don't appreciate a good tree-decorator when you see one."

"Well, I would if I _did_ see one," Misty retorted, crossing her arms. She shook her head disgracefully, grinning. "Putting tinsel on first!"

"Hey, cut me some slack!" Ash tried to defend himself. "I haven't decorated in two years."

Brock stuck his head out from behind the tree where he had been adjusting the window-facing lights. "You know, we could get a lot done if you two would stop bickering about every little thing and actually help me here. I'm the only one doing work!"

"You are not!" Misty shouted, spinning around.

"Hey, I put the star on top!" Ash protested. "Whaddah ya mean you're doing all the work?"

"Well, I am!" Brock glared. "At least I'm not the tree-decorating enforcer and I'm not the one insisting on bringing out Pokémon to help us!"

"Tree-decorating enforcer?!" Misty fumed. "_Why you_—"

Sensing another rage, Delia spoke up quickly and soothingly. "Look, I think you're all doing a good job. It's looking nice. I'm happy with the way it's coming along. Nobody's a tree-decorating enforcer, and no Pokémon, little boy!" she added firmly, pointing at Ash with a knowing look. Ash cringed and scratched the back of his head. "Just have fun with it, okay?"

The three smiled humbly at that, and Delia nodded once. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Please behave yourselves and be careful." She emphasized the sentence with a deep whisper, holding out her hands restrainingly.

When they nodded slowly, she gleamed satisfyingly. Slipping out the door and into the cold afternoon, she bundled her coat around her snugly and began the walk to Professor Oak's preserve.

**T**he cold was barely diminishing as Delia walked on, burrowing her face into the collar of her coat while her ponytail blew coarsely in the blustering, frigid winds. She didn't mind the cold, though. She was brisk in her motion, part of which was to get used to the weather, but mostly because of the excitement that she just couldn't shake. The thought of what was awaiting her kept a smile firmly planted on her face and her legs moving faster and faster to get to the preserve. The image of Ash's face lighting up with surprise and joy made her even warmer, wondering if she could possibly wait for Christmas morning. She could almost sense his reaction upon opening his gift, one that Delia didn't have a problem deciding on, though the decision itself had some thinking to go along with it. It had been a tricky situation, but she knew it was possible, and with the aid she'd received, she could only hope for the best. And the best had come. Now, as Professor Oak's house loomed in the distance, her anticipation flourished.

Delia was pleasantly surprised to see Professor Oak standing out on his front porch, waiting for her arrival. She smiled and waved upon making eye-contact, and he did the same. The sweeping front lawn between them, Delia began to jog to the house as Professor Oak began to laugh softly.

"Couldn't get here fast enough?" he teased as she approached him, huffing and puffing from her sprint, large puffs of steam shooting from her mouth into the wintry air.

She nodded, her words swallowed as she fought to catch her breath. Licking her dry lips, she straightened up and managed a chuckle, pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

The professor grinned patiently as she gathered herself, wondering how something so little could get someone so excited. She was certainly hyped up about this, which was understandable, seeing as how she had been so serious about this since the beginning.

"So…do you have it?" Delia finally asked, bringing her gloved hands up to rub her flushed, cold cheeks.

Closing his eyes and smiling, Professor Oak brought the object out of his coat pocket and watched Delia's eyes glisten. She did a little hop and extended her hands, to which he deposited the bright red and white ball. With as squeak of pure delight, Delia grasped the Pokéball in her hands. It was slippery along her gloves, but she held it tightly, staring at it with utmost amazement.

She looked up with a smile. "I can't believe you got it," she said astonishingly, shaking her head. "You have no idea what this does for me."

"I'm so glad," Professor Oak nodded.

"Thank you _so_ much," Delia exclaimed, a look of gratitude washing over her glossy brown eyes. "I know how much you worked to get this for me."

Professor Oak dismissed it quickly. "Oh, please, it was nothing. There are plenty of Houndoom breeders out there, but the tricky part was finding the _best_." He smiled broadly.

"Oh, I hope it wasn't too much trouble!" Delia groaned gently, grasping the precious object—her little boy's Christmas present—protectively to her.

"None at all," he replied. "In fact, it was kind of fun—like a challenge. I really found out a lot about these Houndoom breeders, also. Some were really impressive, but others…well, I just wasn't satisfied with the way they were raising them, if you can understand."

Delia nodded. "Well, you know more than me. Why do you think I asked for your help?"

He shrugged, then laughed. Professor Oak watched Delia as she rotated the Pokéball carefully in her hands, gazing at it fondly.

"So…is it really in this thing?" she asked, cocking her eye.

"I sure hope so," Professor Oak replied, brushing his hair back. Seeing her shocked expression, he smiled and nodded softly. "Yes, it is. I checked, don't you worry."

Delia relaxed, then continued to stare at it fixedly. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Just seems so weird that such a big creature could be in such a tiny little ball."

"Houndoom aren't really that large," said Professor Oak.

"It looked big in the picture," Delia mumbled, recalling the photograph Professor Oak had shown her. It was not her decision ultimately to get Ash a Houndoom for Christmas. She wasn't sure what she had wanted, and naturally felt that the professor was the best person to consult with in that matter. When asked what she wanted, Delia had simply requested a "really nice" Pokémon, one that was strong, beautiful—one that Ash would love to have. It didn't take long for Professor Oak to suggest the powerfully-built canine, with its striking black coat and poignant battling qualities. He knew right away that Ash would flip over it.

"Would you like to see her?" asked Professor Oak, his voice rumbling with mystification.

Delia looked shocked. "It's a her?"

"Yup. I did have a choice between the male and female, but I've heard that the males might be aggressive. I figured you wouldn't want that for Ash."

Delia shook her head. "You know me well," she snickered. "No, that's perfectly fine."

"Wanna take a look?"

Recoiling, Delia ground her teeth. "I dunno. I think we better keep her in there for now. I don't know if I'm ready to see this monster I'm giving my son."

"Heh, it's hardly a monster, Delia," sighed Professor Oak. "I've had her out since she's arrived. Beautiful creature. And very calm, I might add. I would have imagined Houndoom to be a little wild, but surprisingly she was quite the opposite."

"So she looks good?"

Professor Oak closed his eyes easily and nodded. "More than good. You have an amazing Pokémon there. Ash is going to be _thrilled_."

Beaming, Delia took a deep breath. She squinted a bit nervously, pursing her lips. "So…" she trailed off apprehensively, shuffling the slippery ball from hand to hand, "how much did it come to?"

She braced herself quite visibly, causing Professor Oak to chuckle softly. Though she didn't publicize much on it, he knew she was concerned about the price of such a valuable creature. She may not have wanted to make a big deal of it, but he knew better. Professor Oak had also looked for a breeder who was willing to compromise, to find the best Houndoom he possibly could for the most reasonable price. Surprisingly, it hadn't been difficult.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I think it was very reasonable."

"You didn't go over four hundred, did you?" she cringed, preparing for the answer. Professor Oak's soft face told otherwise.

"No," he replied. "It came to three-twenty."

Delia's eyes rose in stupefaction. "You're kidding?!" she exclaimed. "Three-twenty? You told me that they came three-fifty the _cheapest_!"

"Well, that's what I thought!" he replied. "It's funny what you'll find out there. Look at that, you got a wonderful Pokémon for a fabulous price." He smiled slyly. "Aren't I great?"

She laughed. "You sure are! Oh, my…_wow_."

"Does that make you happy?" Professor Oak asked, his voice peaking with daintiness.

Looking up at him, she nodded. "You have _no _idea. Oh, this…this is going to be the greatest Christmas, I just know it!"

"I'm sure it will be."

Delia fell silent for a moment, staring at the Pokéball once again in her hands before stuffing it into her pocket delicately. "I'm just so happy that Ash is finally home for Christmas. Two years I haven't had him here. That's why I want to make everything perfect."

Professor Oak nodded. "It'll be perfect. You sure are going to make Ash's day on Christmas."

"I hope so."

"Please," Professor Oak gently scowled. "I wish my mother had given _me_ a Pokémon for Christmas when I was Ash's age! And a rare one like a Houndoom to boot! He's going to _worship _you."

"Oh, come on, it's not _that_ great."

"I'd beg to differ," Professor Oak said, lightly jabbing her shoulder with his finger. She laughed and shrank away, retreating her face back into her coat as another vicious wind blew, its bite hard. Her eyes shut and she shivered, causing Professor Oak to smile compassionately.

"You should be getting home," he told her gently. "It's going to get really cold soon."

Delia brought her chin out from her coat. "Yeah, I really should, you're right." She turned her head towards the direction of her home. "Besides, I should make sure my house is still standing."

Giving her a face, Professor Oak uttered a confused laugh. "Huh?"

Delia giggled. "Oh, those crazy kids! They're at home decorating the tree right now, but it's amazing they haven't killed each other yet."

"Rowdy?"

"I think they've had too much eggnog," she muttered, shaking her head. "They have more fun decorating _themselves_."

"Well, I could still use some help with my decorating," said Professor Oak. "Tracey's already fed up with it. Maybe you can send them over when they're done by you."

Delia rolled her eyes, shooting him an incredulous smirk. "Please, you _don't_ want them by you right now," she laughed loudly. "Though I won't mind getting rid of them for a second. I could use a nap."

Grinning, Professor Oak reached up to rub his temples. "I thought Brock and Misty were going home?"

"Yeah, but not until Christmas morning. They're going to stick around for Christmas Eve."

"That's nice," Professor Oak said. "Tracey's doing practically the same thing, but he's leaving tomorrow. He told me to tell you that he might stop by later, by the way."

"Just what I need," Delia groaned playfully, "more kids at my house!"

"He's got presents, though," Professor Oak babbled enticingly, winking.

"Well, in _that _case…"

They laughed, just as a cold wind whipped around them yet again, instantly rushing Delia back to the warmth of her coat. Giving each other wild, similar looks, that clinched it.

"Better get home." Professor Oak shooed her away with waves of his hands.

Delia nodded, half her face still hidden behind her coat. She brought her mouth out momentarily. "All right. Bye, Professor," she said. "Thanks again."

"Any time," Professor Oak replied, winking. "Glad to be of service. Now get home to those kids."

"'Kay," Delia mumbled, her face sunken into her coat again. "And Tracey's always welcome, you know that."

"I know. Have fun," he called out as she made her way away from the house, a bit of tease in his tone. Delia flipped around to give him a playfully crass glare, then continued on her way, her beloved prize gripped ardently in her hand, deep within her pocket.

**D**elia found herself jogging the remaining hundred yards back to her house, the cold finally getting to her numbed limbs. She wanted to get into her warm home to relieve herself of the wicked cold, and not to mention get her little Houndoom to a safe, cozy place. She wasn't sure where she was going to keep the ball, but she knew she needed to put it in a secure, inconspicuous place. Ash had always been a present snooper, so she needed to be careful about where she chose, ruling out all her other previous hiding places.

As her house drew near, all lit up with vibrant white bulbs strung from the roof and along the fence, she pulled off her gloves and stuffed them in her pocket, making sure the Pokéball was easily hidden from sight. She didn't need Ash catching a glimpse of the familiar red and white and become the nosy-body that he was. The cold hit her warm hands with a blast and she quickly rushed to the door, grasped the knob, and let herself in.

The Christmas music was still floated pleasantly throughout the house, just as she had left it. The warmth surrounded her immediately, and her eyes closed as she basked in its sweet relief. The smell of the cookies, seemingly much stronger now, floated up her noise and made her mouth water and her appetite for the treat grow. A strong sense of pure happiness cascaded through her at that moment, and with a deep sigh of rapture, she shut the door with a gentle slam.

"H-hi Mom," came an almost inaudible voice.

Opening her eyes with a smile, Delia looked towards the direction of Ash's voice, waiting to see the sight of a brightly lit, beautiful tree and her overly active kids surrounding it with handfuls of ornaments and tinsel, possibly a cookie being munched on in their mouths. As her eyes settled on three dismal, withdrawn looks, however, the smile slowly fell.

"Hi…Ash…" she uttered, a look of concern sweeping to her face. The words had barely tumbled out of her lips, which pursed.

Ash, Misty, and Brock stood before her, much different than she had left them not half an hour ago. They were not smiling and jumping around restively anymore. They were stone still, their heads hanging just slightly. Their mouths were pulled into unhappy, slightly apprehensive frowns, and Misty was biting at her lower lip. The hunched-over shoulders, along with their other attributes, Delia hardly noticed as their indisputable expressions of pure guilt, brought on instantly by their eyes, stirred her uneasily the most.

The look was most strongly coming from Ash, who was standing a little bit closer to her. His innocent, puppy-dog eyes burnishing into hers made Delia's body droop, and she swallowed uncomfortably.

"What happened?" she asked, the inquisition coming out in a distraught breath. She titled her head, imagining just what could have possibly occurred in that short time she had left them alone.

A short, nervous exchange of looks took place before Ash looked back at her, gulping softly. His hands, which had been behind his back since she had come in, carefully emerged, his left one gripped gently into a small ball, which Delia's attention immediately fell upon. Speechlessly, Ash opened his fingers to reveal an ornament—a broken ornament—lying in his smooth palm, its detached pieces clinking together fragily as the boy's hand shook.

It was not just an ornament, Delia quickly discovered to her dismay. Her eyes widened upon noticing it, and she hesitantly reached out her hand to collect it.

"I'm sorry," Ash mumbled as he dropped the preciously delicate pieces into her hand. "It was an accident."

Delia didn't say anything as the pieces fell into her hand, the pieces of what used to be a small, glossy white Rapidash ornament. Its legs, which had previously been molded into a dramatic, gallant pose of a full gallop, were now missing two of its counterparts, which were settling into the crevices of her palm. It had been her Rapidash ornament, the one she had received from her grandmother at a time she couldn't even recall. She had been young, and among the countless number of ornaments she had gotten over the years, this one had been different, her most treasured.

Wrenched of words, Delia simply stared at her ornament in her hand, her mouth agape. Her Rapidash…her favorite, broken—ruined.

"It was an accident, Mom," Ash squeaked again, his voice timid. "We…we were just hanging ornaments, and…and I took that out and I was careful with it, because I know it's yours, but it must have just slipped off the branch or something…"

Delia couldn't believe it. Closing her eyes momentarily, she then looked up gently, but disappointingly at Ash. "Oh, Ash," she sighed. "I told you to be careful."

Ash hung his head. "But—but I was careful."

"It's true, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock said. "We were being careful, it just…I saw it, the branch must not have been sturdy enough."

"Yeah," Misty agreed quietly. "I'm sorry…Ash—Ash told us about that ornament. How it was yours as a kid. I really feel bad."

Delia could only nod her head glumly. Her eyes fell back down at the Rapidash in her hand. Its lustrous body shone in the dim light, the red bow still tied tightly around its neck. Out of all ornaments…why this one? Why did this have to break? She quickly bit back her tears and clutched her hand closed.

"Mom, I'm really sorry," Ash apologized again, coming up to her. She looked down into his brown eyes, truly sorry, truly hurt. "It just slipped off the branch. I tried to catch it, but—but I couldn't. I'm sorry."

Licking her lips, Delia nodded. She rapidly shook herself of it internally, and decided to put on a smile. "No, honey…it's okay," she replied, her voice shaky but all the same gentle. "It was an accident."

"But I'm really sorry," Ash moaned.

Delia reached out and cupped his chin in her free hand. "It's okay, though. Really."

Ash was silent for a moment, and looked down. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No, sweetie," she answered swiftly, shaking her head. She managed a chuckle. "Accidents happen. I know. There's nothing we can do about it sometimes."

"Can you fix it, Mrs. Ketchum?" Misty asked, her eyes rising in concerned quandary.

Sighing, Delia looked down at the ornament again, picking up the minute glass legs of the Rapidash in her hand. They were so tiny, so brittle. There was no way it could be mended, she knew it. "No, Misty," she replied. "I don't think so."

Misty's face fell, but no more than Ash's did. He couldn't help but feel entirely guilty for it, even if it had just been a careless accident. They had not been wild at all after Delia left, settling into decorating the tree seriously but contentedly. It was not as if they were tossing the ornaments around, but Ash had been the one to take it out of the box Delia kept it in, slipped the hook over it, and attempted to pin it to a good place in the tree. Each time he recalled seeing the ornament fall to the ground and smash into pieces, he shuddered.

"I feel really bad, Mom," he spoke up again, watching his mother stare despondently at the Rapidash. "You can break one of my things if you want."

His culpability and willing to sacrifice made Delia snicker, giving him a benevolent look. "Ash, stop it. I told you, it's fine."

Ash tried to his hardest to smile sincerely. "All right."

"Now, go back and finish that tree," she said. "It's looking really nice. You guys are doing a great job. Just…make sure the branches are sturdy before you put the ornaments on, okay?"

They muttered in agreement and returned to their work while Delia shuffled her way into the kitchen, the broken ornament held tightly in her hand. Her coat had not even been taken off yet, but she didn't notice. She reached the counter and leaned against it, bringing her hand before her and reluctantly opening it. She gaped at it for a while, feeling her eyes wash over with tears, not heavy enough to fall. It was nothing to get angry over, since it had been an accident, but it didn't eradicate the fact that it would never be the same again.

Delia was brought out of her dampened silence as the ringing phone sounded again, more surprisingly as the cordless was right beside her. Not taking her eyes off the dismembered glass creature in her hand, she picked up the phone, switching it on, and greeted the caller, much more morosely than previously.

"It's me again, Delia." A laugh.

Delia smiled wanly, exhaling softly. "Oh…hi, Professor Oak."

He picked up on her mood immediately, pausing. "Delia, are you all right? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Delia shook her head, managing a non-convincing laugh. It sounded terrible, to say the least. "It's okay."

"No," Professor Oak replied, his tone quavering. "You don't sound okay. You were fine two seconds ago. What's happened?"

Delia ran a hand through her hair, biting her lip. She didn't need to burden the professor with her petty problems, but his voice was persistent.

"Nothing…just…" She shrugged. "…Ash broke something while I was gone."

"Uh-oh," he replied, sensing trouble afoot. Delia knew this, and quickly filled in.

"No, it's nothing bad."

"It's not? You sure sound upset," protested Professor Oak. "What did he break?"

Glancing down at the once-beautiful ornament in her hand, she sighed. "An ornament of mine. I've had it since I was…oh dear, I must have been three or four."

"Three or four?" he replied, in shock. "You _are_ upset, don't tell me you're not. That sounds like something valuable to me."

"Well, I guess I am," Delia finally gave in, shrugging. "I mean, I can't get too worked up over it. It was an accident. They said it slipped off the branch and I believe them, but…I don't know why it had to be this one."

"Mmm," Professor Oak mumbled. "What was it?"

"A Rapidash," she answered, smiling.

"Oh!" He sounded sympathetic. "Rapidash have always been your favorite, haven't they?"

"Yeah," replied Delia, setting the pieces down on the counter. "You knew that?"

"I think you've told me that before. That really is a shame," Professor Oak lamented.

"It's all right," Delia found herself saying again, wondering at the same time if she was really being truthful. "So, um…what were you calling for?"

Despite her still gloomy tone, Professor Oak continued quite perkily. "Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you one last thing about the Houndoom."

"Oh." Delia pushed the thought of the ornament out of her head and pressed the phone closer to her ear. "That reminds me! It'll be okay in the Pokéball till Christmas morning, right?"

Professor Oak chucked at the other end. "I can't believe you just said that. I was calling to tell you not to worry about Houndoom till Christmas. I felt you might have been concerned, and that I should have said something."

"Thanks," Delia smiled. "Say, how did you know I had a question?"

"Oh…I don't know," he laughed in reply. "Figured you'd be worried about that, though. Just so you know, the Houndoom ate a lot here before you came for her, so just make sure Ash feeds her immediately on Christmas morning, and she should be fine."

"She won't be hungry?"

"No, no," Professor Oak answered. "As long as she's in her ball, she'll be resting and she won't get too hungry. Besides, Christmas is closer than you think."

Delia beamed. "One more day! Say, I can wrap it, right?"

"Of course you can," he answered. They fell into silence right after. "So…are you going to be okay?"

The thought of the ornament came back to Delia, but as her face sagged, she continued to smile. "Sure. Things happen. It's not the end of the world."

"True," he agreed solemnly. "I'll let you go then. Have a nice night, Delia."

"You, too," she responded. "Buh-bye."

Delia hung up the phone, placing it back onto the counter. Inside, she could hear the kids bustling around the tree silently, calmer. That was a comfort, if at all. Throwing one more forlorn look at her Rapidash lying on the counter, she sighed, and decided to put it out of her mind. Unzipping her coat, she made her way to her room to deal with the Houndoom.

**"G**ive me some of that, would you?!" demanded the frustrated, red-headed girl. She gripped hard onto the long blue blanket and ripped it toward her, desperately trying to cover her bare legs. Her opponent, his creamy fur puffing sharply in the cold air, pulled back at it.

"Not on your life!" he shot back, digging his rough claws into the fabric. "I'm cold here, too, ya know!"

"Who cares?" Jessie growled, flashing the Pokémon a vicious snarl. "You have fur! That's your blanket! I don't have fur, so give it to me!"

"No way!" Meowth fought back, not ready to give up the blanket's meager warmth.

"_Give it_, Meowth!"

"No!"

"Will you two please stop?" a gentle, almost fed-up plea sounded. James looked over his shoulder from where he squatted, a pile of tiny twigs and other kindling beginning to glow a deep orange. "I have the fire going."

"Finally!" Jessie exclaimed agitatedly. She pulled one last time at the blanket, this time detaching it from Meowth's desperate grasp. The Pokémon tumbled head over heels, got up, huffed, and scowled at her.

Jessie wrapped the blanket around her legs, allowing a relieved smile to spread across her face. She dragged herself over to the fire and seated herself before it. James scrambled over and sat closely beside her, pushing his legs against hers in an attempt to beat the cold.

"This has got to be the coldest day yet," she mumbled, shivering. She held her hands over the fire.

"The fire should get bigger soon," James replied. "I brought a lot of sticks. We'll be warm in no time."

Meowth made his way softly to the fire and plopped down opposite them. His large eyes stared wantonly into the blaze. "Forget about da fire. I just wish we had some food ta cook on it."

Jessie and James mumbled in agreement, their attentions brought on to their aching, empty stomachs. It had been a while since they had eaten something satisfying, and as they sat there penniless and without food, they could only slump dejectedly.

It was Christmas Eve, and the evening sun was setting steadily in the cloudless sky. Despite the lovely day it had been, the cold air engulfed them further, beating furiously at the fire with its blustering winds. Team Rocket had followed Ash, Misty, and Brock here, all the way from the western regions of Johto. Although they had not encountered their adversaries for a few days now, they certainly knew where they were abiding. The Ketchum residence flickered brightly through the narrow gaps in-between the bare trees, a short distance from where they had set up camp.

"Look at it over there," Jessie mumbled to neither one of them in particular. James and Meowth's heads rose and gazed over at the warm house, all dazzled for Christmas. The tree glowed brilliantly through the patio doors. "It's so pretty, isn't it?"

"Mmm," James nodded, his eyes melting into the inviting, pleasant sight. It brought nothing but remorse, however, as he could easily match the sadness in his partner's shaky voice. "Sure is."

Jessie shook her head. "Why do they deserve that?" she asked drearily, though she knew the answer in her heart. It still needed to be asked, though. "Why can't we have something like that?"

Meowth shrugged. "And dat's not all. Dose kids have a nice dinner and warm beds, too." He sighed. "I don't know why we can't have dat, Jessie."

"If only we had a little bit of money," James lamented softly, his voice distant. The wind howled over their heads. "Aren't we supposed to have gotten some sort of Christmas bonus? We have other years…"

"It would be nice if we actually got a _paycheck_," Jessie huffed, downheartedly snuggling into the blanket. She moved her legs closer to James', yearning for more warmth.

"Don't count on it," Meowth's voice drifted. "The only thing we're goin' ta be doin' is watching dose kids have a nice Christmas while we sit out here and freeze."

Jessie gritted her teeth, her eyes not leaving the house. She saw no movement coming from the window as she had earlier. At times she could even hear the bustling action and the Christmas music that had lasted throughout the day. How she wanted it…how she desired it. It wasn't fair. Then again, what had been fair to them lately?

"What way is this to spend Christmas Eve?" she asked, drawing the attention of her teammates. "I don't want to do that. I don't _want_ to watch them have a good Christmas. _I_ want a good Christmas."

James looked at her sadly. "I wish we could have that, Jessie."

Jessie shot him a look, breathing heavily. "And why not? What makes them get all that stuff while we get nothing?! It's not fair."

She glared back at the house again, biting hard on her lip. Her eyes narrowed in rigid concentration. She brought the blanket up to her chin, barely feeling the heat of the fire. It wasn't enough. At that moment, as it had repeatedly throughout the day, her stomach rumbled, eating at her sides. As her engrossment deepened, so did her anger and her envy.

"It makes me sick," she spat, the fire gently lighting her recoiled face. "While they're in there stuffing themselves, we're sitting out here hungry and cold."

"And broke," James mumbled in addition.

"That doesn't matter," Jessie growled. Suddenly, she stood up, letting the blanket fall to the ground. She pointed at the Ketchum residence and stiffened. "I bet you they'll have extra food, too. You know the twerp's mother! She probably has enough to feed an army!"

James and Meowth's faces simultaneously lifted.

"Not enough for all of them to finish!" James chimed.

Meowth raised his paw into the air. "And we don't need a lot!"

Looking determinedly at the home before her, Jessie beamed, but her voice was still firm. "That's right, Meowth. And I say that we should take advantage of all that extra, uneaten food, don't you think? They're only four people, after all. Wouldn't want anything to go to waste now, would we?"

"Sounds good to me, Jess," James smiled.

"What do you have in mind?" Meowth asked, though he seemed to already grasp Jessie's intention in the way his face bunched with excitement.

Jessie looked down and cocked her eye at the Pokémon. "Heh, what do you think, Meowth?"

"Oooh!" James gleamed, hopping up and clutching his fists. "Are we going to break in? Are we, are we?"

Jessie closed her eyes and grinned. "Well, we can't certainly walk up to the door and ask nicely, can we? It's a shame that can't be, but there's always another tempting option."

"At last," James declared, his eyes glistening with tears. "We'll finally be getting the delicious meal we deserve!"

Jessie chuckled. "Perhaps even more, James."

"Huh?"

She shrugged confidently. "Maybe tonight we'll be walking away with some scrumptious food and a Pikachu in a stocking."

"Dat's a Christmas gift I can't pass up!" Meowth laughed. "Hehe, I'm in!"

"Me, too!" James exclaimed.

Jessie laughed again under her breath. "We'll get our good Christmas, I'm sure of it. Someone special is going to be visiting those twerps tonight, and it isn't going to be Santa Claus…"

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Wow, I got two stories going right now! Whoah-oh! Sorry, that just excites me. I've never had that before. Anyways, I hope you liked this. My little holiday treat to everyone out there on More to come on Wednesday! And don't worry, this won't be a million chapters long like my other stuff . . . part 1 of 3! Thanks for reading! Spook


	2. Part 2

__

(Pallet Town Presents)

The Night After Christmas

__

by Spruceton Spook

Part 2

****

As the lights of the proudly standing, beautiful tree twinkled in the dark, accompanied by the flickering of the black-and-white picture from the television, silence was finally taking hold of the active household, the end to yet another busy day. Ash, Misty, and Brock, wearied by just having the pleasure of a fun, easy-going day, sat side-by-side on the couch, their eyes fixated in carefree interest on the TV. A Christmas movie had kept them occupied for a good amount of the night, just what was needed for a wonderful Christmas Eve. Empty glasses of eggnog, trims of nutmeg rounding the edges, stood together on the coffee table beside a plate covered with the crumbs of what had been Christmas cookies, all devoured eagerly and happily.

The day had been long, and it was taking a toll on the kids' droopy eyelids. But the feeling of Christmas, the wonderfully skeptical presence of the special holiday just a night away, kept them awake. They were too happy to sleep, too riled up to just settle in for the night. Misty and Brock were especially jittery, the thoughts of being home in mere hours to spend the first Christmas in years with their families making them considerably jumpy. 

Smiles were spread across their faces as the movie's final scene faded into the credits. At the same time, they all sat up and stretched. Ash yawned loudly as he did so, while Pikachu stretched himself out vigorously, claws extending and lightning-bolt tail stiffening as far out as it could.

Delia came in to see them loosening their cramped-up limbs and smiled. She didn't know how many times she had come in that night just to watch them take in the movie, sitting so peacefully together. It had been a considerably lovely evening, the foreshadowing of what she believed to be a great day the next.

"You guys look tired," she said softly. The three looked around, slightly startled. Ash was the first to close his eyes and smile.

"Aw, we're not that tired," he said.

Delia waltzed over, reaching over to rub her tired son's head. "Yes, you are. You can hardly keep your eyes open."

"Yeah, Ash," Misty yawned. "It's eleven o'clock, ya know. I'm getting sleepy."

"And we need our sleep," Brock added. "We have a trip to make tomorrow, you don't."

Ash smiled weakly. "Don't go," he begged softly. 

"We'll be back right after New Year's," Brock tilted his head. "You can't spend a few days without us?"

"No," Ash mumbled, frowning lightly. His eyes denoted that his pleas were playful, however, as well as the coquettish grin pulling at his lips. 

"He's hopeless, Brock," Misty said, rolling her eyes. "We've been around him too much and we spoiled him."

Brock nodded and chuckled, joining Misty as she gave Ash taunting looks. Delia watched them tease Ash, grinning. It was fun, but it was also getting late. 

"All right, kids," she said, swinging her arms to direct them upstairs. "Time for bed."

"Mom, you don't have to tell me when to go to bed anymore."

"On Christmas Eve, I do," Delia smirked. "Santa's coming, after all."

_"Mom!"_ Ash groaned, slumping peacefully. 

Delia laughed, grabbing his chin and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Go . . . to . . . _bed_."

"O -- _kay_," retorted Ash, returning the kiss good-night. Letting Pikachu scamper ahead of him, he, Misty, and Brock gave their last good-night wishes to Delia and made their way upstairs.

They were upstairs for half an hour before Delia went to work, grabbing the brightly-packaged gifts from the coat closet. She worked quietly, making sure that none of the kids were going to come down, but nothing but silence came from the second floor. Smiling humbly, she delicately set the presents under the tree, a couple for Brock and Misty and two for Ash as well, including the one whose price easily outmatched all the others put together. Among them, also, were the kids' gifts to each other, along with the presents that Tracey had brought and two presents for her. When they were finished, she held the diminutive, red-bowed box in her hands shortly before setting it down among the others, perched atop them all.

"Sleep tight, little Houndoom," she whispered, patting the box. "See ya tomorrow morning."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**"J**ust a little more," James squeaked confidently, his eyes set deep in concentration at the hair pin pinched between his fingers. It was wedged into the lock of the back door, quietly clinking around the inside. "I think I got it."

"Hurry, James!" Jessie whined, though much of her tone conveyed encouragement. "I don't think I can handle this cold any longer."

Narrowing his eyes, James fiddled with the pin more, praying that soon he would hear that welcoming click, their ticket in. He had done this before; his trusty pin hardly let him down. And it wasn't going to tonight, either . . .

_Click._ James' eyes widened happily at the glorious sound. "I got it!" he cried proudly, pulling the pin out and grasping the knob.

Jessie and Meowth were smiling wildly. 

"Be as quiet as possible, James!" Jessie warned in heavy whisper. "This is one plan that we're successfully going through."

"Right," James agreed, delicately turning the doorknob. The door creaked open softly and silently, much to their relief. As they entered the dark kitchen, the only light being the blindingly green analog numbers on the stove, they squinted to see where they were.

"Meowth, can you see anything?" Jessie asked.

"Not yet," Meowth replied, struggling to use his keen eyesight. It was very hard -- the house was very dark.

"We're in the kitchen," James observed, not noticing the rolling of eyes performed by his teammates.

Jessie sighed. "We know that, James. I just wish we could see something."

"Are there lights around?" James walked slowly, yet aimlessly, around the room.

"We can't use lights!" Meowth gasped, whispering. "Are you crazy?"

James searched for Meowth, though it merely resulted in his eyes darting around the dark room desperately. "Well, how are we suppose to do anything in this dark? I'm afraid I'm gonna trip or something!"

Jessie cringed as the last couple of words escaping James' mouth were rather noisy. "Shh!" she hissed under her breath. "Would you two shut up? Your fighting is what's going to get us caught."

Huffing, she promptly strolled over to the other side of the room, feeling her way around for the door handle to the refrigerator. It was their best option, hopefully full of more delectable options for them to feast upon. She hoped . . .

Finding the handle, she pulled the door open. The fridge's bright light washed over the kitchen, casting their long, black shadows against the back wall. Narrowing their eyes at the light, the team managed to focus them into the refrigerator, at which they widened excitedly.

"Look at that!" Jessie exclaimed jubilantly, her mouth watering. 

"I've never seen sometin' so beautiful!" marveled Meowth, tears springing to his eyes.

"It's almost like a dream . . ." James cooed, clutching his fists.

Sure enough, almost as if it glowed with its own light, the huge, 20-pound turkey sat upon the top shelf in a pool of its own juices. The sight of the bird literally made the team's knees buckle.

Jessie swallowed her saliva. "Ooh!" she squealed delightfully. "We're going to eat well this Christmas!"

"Christmas?" Meowth exclaimed. "We'll be eatin' dat baby till Valentine's Day!"

"I can't wait!" James was in heaven. "Come to papa." He reached into the refrigerator and clasped onto the large pan beneath the turkey, groaning as he hoisted it up. The turkey rolled from side to side in the pan, staggering the weight around haphazardly. James kept a tight hold on it, and brought it to the table to rest the weight for a moment.

"Okay, we got da bird," Meowth said. "Let's split!"

Jessie gave the Pokémon a face. "Split? What for? It's warm here. And perhaps we're not done yet."

"Are you still planning on getting Pikachu?" James cringed gently, and glanced at the turkey. "I think Meowth might have a point, Jess. I think we should quit while we're ahead."

Jessie simply laughed under her breath, turning her head around and allowing her eyes to roam around the rest of the dark house. The light from the open refrigerator lit the place up enough, and quickly she walked into the living room. 

"Jessie?" She ignored them.

The streetlights lit up the living room slightly, enough for her to make out the outlines of the furniture and the towering tree by the window. Remembering its glamorous illumination, a tiny grin formed on her lips. Kneeling carefully beside the base of the tree, she extended her arm around it, patting around for a plug. Her eyes rose when she hit something instead . . . a surge strip, which she flipped the switch of like a gleefully curious youngster.

She jumped as the tree lit magnificently, the tinsel flickering the light in all directions. The chasing lights darted around the tree continuously. A gentle smile swept to her face as she gaped at the tree, breathing softly as she felt the strong feeling of happiness take hold of her. James and Meowth had finally followed her into the living room, and they stood in the doorway now, looking down at her.

Jessie didn't mind who was looking at her. Her eyes searched ecstatically around the tree's surroundings, from the shining star up on top to the flowing red blanket around its base, where numerous presents of all sizes sat patiently. She couldn't resist reaching out for the presents, her smile curving more dubiously and her interest sparking.

"What do we have here?" she asked out loud to no one, running her hand along the packages. It was the smaller one, however, that caught her attention. Maybe it was its size, maybe it was its availability, or perhaps it was the beautiful little red bow that adorned it. 

"Whaddah ya have dere, Jess?" she heard Meowth ask, coming over to her to see what had captivated her so powerfully. He didn't need her reply, though. "Oooh! Presents!"

Jessie grasped the small present in her hands, her eyes widening as she was shocked at how light it was. She snickered as she pulled at the tag, reading it aloud to her partners.

"_To my Ash. Merry Christmas. Love, Mommy_," she recited. She made a face of taunting disgust. "Oh, how wretchedly sweet."

"Heh, it's the twerp's gift!" James said. He had since knelt down beside her. 

Meowth scowled. "Since when does he deserve a present?"

Narrowing her eyes, Jessie brought the gift up to her head and shook it. Whatever was in the box was quite large for its confounds, she could tell. She took her attention off of it for a moment and joined James and Meowth, who were taking little look-sees at the other gifts. They found some for Brock and Misty, and one more long-shaped box for Ash. 

"Wonder what they could be?" James said, his voice full of mystification. He sounded quite enthralled, if anything.

Jessie was thinking the exact thing, although apparently at a different level than James. She didn't say a word as she held the box that contained the valuable Pokémon in her hands, much to her unknowing. Something didn't settle well within her. She didn't know exactly how this perception came to her, but she couldn't help pondering. 

Misty and Brock only had two presents each, one addressed from Santa and one from Delia. Understandable, since the kids weren't hers and she wasn't entirely obligated to give them a gift, let alone two. But only two for Ash? Her mother had never been rich, that was for sure, but Jessie recalled always getting more than she would have expected on Christmas, sometimes four to six to ten presents. Jessie knew the twerp's mother was well off financially, far better off than her mother had ever been, and that said a lot. Two presents were all that were under this tree for her son, the son Jessie knew Delia adored with all her heart and soul, enough to wrench her stomach but all the same wash over her compassionately.

Jessie held the package in front of her face for a long time. Why was this suddenly getting to her? Why had she become interested in this present? At that moment, it all came to her that whatever was in this box was not that cheap. She didn't know where that idea came from, but it held steady within her. It was just a tiny box after all . . . but what possibly could be in that box to give an eleven or twelve or thirteen or however old he was kid? Smaller boxes for girls made sense -- jewelry, lockets, watches -- but for a boy?

"What do you think could be in here?" Jessie asked, holding out the box to James. He picked it up and looked at it, shaking it aside his ear.

He smiled. "Heh, maybe it's a lump of coal!" he chimed, laughing.

Jessie laughed. "As much as I would love to believe that, I hardly think that's what's in it, James."

"Hmm," James answered, staring at it intelligently, his nose thrust in the air and his one eye cocked.

"Definitely coal," Meowth nodded confidently, snickering. "Guess dat kid ain't as sweet an' cute as he tinks."

"Oh please, Meowth." Jessie rolled her eyes. "It isn't _coal_, you numskull. What could be in it?"

"Why do want to know so badly?" James asked her. "C'mon, we have the turkey, let's leave before it's too late!"

James got up, but Jessie remained kneeling on the floor. Her leather boots squeaked as she sat down, the box still in her hands.

"Jessie!" James barked in a whisper upon seeing her sit. "C'mon. We better go!"

"Yeah, Jess," Meowth encouraged, too. They were both heading out, but their heads were still turned over their shoulders at Jessie.

It hit her so suddenly. It almost zapped to her mind, making her heart pump. She knew what was in it. How that came to be known she had no idea, but it didn't stop her from looking surprisingly at James and Meowth, who gave her weird looks to match her own.

"James," she gasped, biting her lip as a lopsided smile took over her mouth. "I think there's a Pokémon in this!"

James' eyes rose. "A Pokémon?"

"Yeah," Jessie smiled. She shrugged, looking crazily down at the present. "I mean . . . it seems so obvious now!" Holding the package out for him to see, she added, "A Pokéball fits _perfectly_ in this box! How could we not know?"

James folded his arms in front of him. "Well, why not? What else would that brat want for Christmas?"

Not answering, Jessie looked at the present. Very slowly, a wide smile swept from ear to ear, and she stood, the package still gripped in her hand. James and Meowth's eyes widened as they watched her come towards them.

"Jessie?" James asked incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" 

"Are you takin' da twerp's present?" Meowth exclaimed in disbelief.

Jessie shrugged rather casually. "Why not? Look at it! Could you imagine what might be in this?"

James was silent for a moment before responding. "But it's his Christmas present, Jessie."

"So?" Jessie scowled. "Like Meowth said before: he deserves it? After all that kid's put us through, it's pay-back time. And what better pay-back than getting a nicely wrapped little rare Pokémon, hmm?"

James reached up to push some stray hair out of his eyes. "But it's his _Christmas present_," he repeated, his tone low. His eyes clearly showed that he was shocked. Jessie slumped at this. "I mean, normally, I would agree with you, Jessie, but it's the kid's present, and . . ."

"And?" Jessie demanded.

"And that doesn't seem . . . right," he finished, shrugging helplessly. He gazed at her skeptically.

"Right?" Jessie spat. "James, you gotta be kidding me!" She managed a small smile. She spoke slowly and directly to get her point across. "Look, James. In this package . . . who knows what's in it?! It could be something like a . . . like a . . . Ninetales! Or an Arcanine! Or maybe even an Umbreon! Who knows?! It could be anything! Think of it! You want to know where our Christmas bonus is? It's right here -- _in this box_. This box is going to boost us up on the Boss' side."

Although her little speech was enticing, James' quizzical stare remained. He shared a glance with Meowth, who didn't look entirely thrilled about it, either, but the good coming out of the steal was beginning to grasp him. The Pokémon shrugged, and turned away, leaving the situation to James.

"What the big deal, James?" Jessie questioned. "This is not like you!"

"I know," James replied, shaking his head. "I know, but . . . I don't think we should do that. Wait till he gets it, and then we can steal it."

"Why do that? It's right here!"

James simply looked away, and Jessie slouched. She couldn't believe what was happening. 

"Do what you like," James said inaudibly. "I . . . I just don't think you should, though . . ."

He turned away at that, grabbing the turkey in his arms and leaving the house along with Meowth, headed for their camp nearby. Jessie was left alone in the dim living room, the tree lights still chasing around and around. Her face wrinkled in confusion, she stared down at the gift. A sharp pang of excitement and longing ran up her spine and she shivered.

"Who cares?" she mumbled to herself. Without another moment of hesitation, she held the gift tightly in her grip and scurried out of the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**T**here was no pounding down the stairs, no stampeding. It was not the break of dawn, nor was it even before that. No silent whispering, no snooping around, no tip-toeing. The joys of having older kids in the house on Christmas.

It was a reasonable hour on Christmas morning that Ash, Misty, and Brock decided to quietly awake and go downstairs. Delia heard them talking softly as they passed her door. She lifted her head from her pillow groggily and noticed that it was eight A.M., which is what she expected. Not only was Christmas morning a very exciting event, but there was also that bus that Misty and Brock needed to catch at ten in order to get them home.

Despite still being a bit tired, Ash felt a chill of spunk rush through him as he descended the stairs. He hadn't done this in two years, and how he had missed it. The morning shone brightly through the windows, livening up the living room and making the tinsel glisten. His eyes sweeping from the top of the tree down, Ash spotted the presents at the bottom and grinned widely.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu cried, dashing down the rest of the stairs before them all, skidding to a spot below the tree. He looked up eagerly as the others came down, all smiles.

"Wow," Ash said, not being able to contain the little giggle that escaped him. He couldn't think of anything greater than this moment.

"Ooh, yay!" Misty squealed softly, kneeling down beside the tree gently with Ash, who had knelt down as well. Her teeth gleamed as she spotted a medium-sized box wrapped in blue snowflake paper, a tag hanging from it sporting her name. She carefully reached out and grasped it.

Brock was standing behind them, and Misty playfully pulled him down. "Here, Brock," she said, grasping a present in the same paper. "This one's for you."

It didn't take long for Brock to smile.

"Hold on a sec," Ash said, holding them back with his hand. He had turned away from the presents momentarily. "Wait for Mom to come first."

Misty looked startled. "Okay, Ash," she shrugged with a small smile. "Does it look like I'm in a rush?"

Ash smiled and shrugged. "Nah," he replied. "Just to tell ya. Mom got upset when I used to do that."

"Oh," she said, smirking. "Well, I'll have to keep an eye on you, then."

Ash poo-pooed it with a wrinkle of his nose, and turned back to the gifts. Misty and Brock were already holding theirs, so there was no harm in grabbing one for himself. Searching around, he spotted yet another blue-snowflake package topped with a silver bow. The tag read: _To Ash, From Santa_.

Smiling, Ash snatched the gift and held it in his hands. He trembled excitedly at what it might be. The feeling became one of impatience, and he hopped in place.

_"Mom!"_ he called out loudly.

"Ash!" Brock narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't be so loud! It's Christmas morning!"

"Mom's being slow," responded Ash, grinning. "I know she's up! I can't wait to open a present."

Misty got up and sat herself on the couch, placing the gift on her lap beside Togepi, who began to play with the bow atop it. Brock followed her. "Be patient, Ash, not greedy."

"I'm not greedy!" Ash defended himself haughtily. He turned his head back at the stairs. "Moooom! Come on!"

Brock and Misty could just shake their heads and roll their eyes. It wasn't much of a surprise when they heard Delia make her way down the stairs in her red Christmas pajamas, giving her son a friendly, stern stare.

"I used to like sleeping on Christmas morning," she shook her head. Ash beamed boyishly.

"C'mon, Ma," he said, "I wanna see what I got!"

"All right, all right," she sighed, coming down and sitting on the couch, her eyes scanning around at the happy Ash, Misty, and Brock, each clutching their presents stimulatedly.

"Here, Mom," Ash said, reaching under the tree to grab the present he had gotten her. She smiled as she took it in her hands.

"Thanks, honey," she said. "But you guys open first. I wanna see what you got."

Ash tore open the gift instantly and pulled back the white tissue paper. His jaw dropping in elation as he pulled out the plastic coated item, causing Misty, Brock, and Delia's heads rise to see what it was.

"Oh, awesome!" Ash cried. He stared down at his gift, a deep blue CD Walkman, complete with mini speakers. 

Delia looked interestedly at it. "Wow, look at that. I think those speakers will be nice to have on the road, don't you, Ash? You guys can listen to music now!"

"That's great!" exclaimed Ash, lowering it to show Pikachu. "This'll be fun to have, won't it, Pikachu?" Pikachu sniffed at it and examined it, pricking his ears and smiling. Ash chuckled. He had wanted one of these for the longest time, but he never expected getting it. He didn't even recall asking for it, making him wonder what other gifts were in store for him.

Ash didn't go for another present, however, as he respectively turned his attention to Misty and Brock and watched them open their gifts. Misty was overly delighted with the collection of precious ceramic water Pokémon figures she received, while Brock ripped open his present to reveal a series of hard-cover, full color Pokémon books centered on breeding and beauty.

"Ooh, I'm gonna have to steal those," Ash giggled, pushing himself up on his hands to get a look as Brock delicately turned the pages of one of the books.

Brock sneered and lifted the book high above his head. "Yeah, right, Ash. Nobody's handling these but me! These books are great."

"And we know how Ash is around delicate items," Misty snickered, holding the box containing her figurines protectively to her. "Don't even look at these, Ash." 

Ash gave her a face and shook his head. He otherwise ignored the dig at his ornament breaking two days ago and dove under the tree yet again. 

"Okay, Pikachu," he said, handing the Pokémon a small bag, "here's one for you, and here's another for Brock, and this is for Misty . . ."

He handed Misty his gift, after which his eyes momentarily locked with Delia's. She gave him a wide smile and raised eyes as he did. He smiled back a bit oddly, wondering why she suddenly was looking so frivolous.

"Say, Ash, I thought I saw a little red package down there for you," she said, gesturing to the base of the tree with her a nod of her head. She couldn't stand the wait anymore, and gripped her hands restlessly. "Why don't you see what that's all about?" 

Ash smiled and turned around. "All right," he replied, beginning to rifle through the gifts. Delia couldn't see the presents, since Ash was blocking the view, and she wondered why Ash needed to search for it since it had been on the top. Assuming it just got knocked aside, she took a deep, happy breath and waited for Ash to turn around with it in his hands, face glowing.

"Um, Mom?" Ash asked, cocking his eye and scratching his head confusingly. "There's no red present down here."

Delia's brow furrowed. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Ash turned to her, his eyes shrugging. "I don't see a red present down here."

Brock and Misty startled as Delia leapt off the couch, falling to her knees beside her son. Ash jumped back at her unforeseen action, his eyes widening in shock.

"Mom?"  
He shivered uncomfortably as she tore through the remaining presents, her face becoming paler by the second. Ash threw a nervous glance at his friends on the couch, their jaws dropped in stupefaction. 

"Oh, no," Delia moaned dreadfully when her rummaging abruptly halted, panic taking over her expression and voice. She bit on her bottom lip fiercely, causing Ash to become even more worried. "Tell me no!"

"Mom, what's the matter?" he asked frantically, coming over to her. She didn't look at him, keeping her eyes glued to the scattered presents, frozen still in disbelief.

Delia swallowed the huge lump that formed in her throat. "No," she said again, her voice distant. "It . . . it can't be . . . no, it has to be here . . ."

"What has to be here?" Ash demanded, his tone full of fear. "Mama, what's missing?"

It was hard to turn to Ash and look at him. It was hard to do anything at the moment, as Delia's head was spinning uncontrollably. Sure enough, among the presents that she had placed there that night, one was absent, the most important. It had not been tossed carelessly aside, as Delia had prayed -- it was gone. Slowly, she set her eyes in her son's worried ones, which blinked in concern.

"Your present, Ash." Her voice shook. "Your present . . . it's not here!"

"It's not?" Ash asked, glancing down at the packages strewn under the tree. He noticed other presents addressed to him from Misty, Brock, and Tracey, but none of them were wrapped in red. It must have been his mother's present to him.

Ash shook his head and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "It must be here, Mom. It couldn't have gone anywhere."

His mother managed to nod, trying best to contain herself. Normally, she would not have worried so much . . . but this was not just any present. A living thing was nowhere in sight, the largest investment she had made recently. She couldn't afford this trouble. 

"You're right, Ash," she murmured. "Presents don't just get up and walk away."

Misty jumped from the couch and knelt beside them. "Ash, did you see that before? You were the first one here."

Ash tried to recall his first encounter with the presents, but he hadn't paid much attention. The excitement had been too much.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. He didn't remember seeing one, but then again that didn't mean it hadn't been there.

Brock got up, placing his books on the coffee table. "Look around the other side of the tree," he said. "Or maybe under the couch. It might have rolled there."

Even though that seemed sort of preposterous, Delia didn't ignore the suggestion. She couldn't imagine Ash being so rowdy as to knock the present so far from where she set it, but she didn't rule it out. She reached under the dust ruffle of the couch and swept her hand around, hoping to hit something. But there was nothing there. Meanwhile, Misty had gotten up and looked around the other side of the tree, but no bright red present jumped out at her.

Ash had gotten up and looked around the rest of the room, feeling ridiculous but still expectant. It was his present, after all, but that wasn't the only thing urging him to find it. He gazed down fretfully at his distraught mother, who looked like she was about to have a conniption fit. He shuddered coldly.

After about five minutes of unsuccessful, panicky searching, Delia collapsed on the couch. Her head fell into her hands and she pulled at her hair anxiously. His heart thumping to his throat, Ash dashed to the couch and sat beside her.

"Mom?" he uttered nervously. She lifted her head and looked at him. "What happened to it?"

"I don't know," she replied inaudibly. "It was here . . . I put it under the tree last night . . ." She trailed off and pulled Ash into a tight hug. "Oh, baby, I don't know what happened to it."

Ash buried his face into her warm shoulder. "What was it, Mom?" 

Delia pulled him out of the hug gently and gazed at him, reaching up to brush some of his uncombed bangs out of his face. He looked so worried, so sad . . . but hardly as sad as she probably appeared. He didn't know the extent of the problem, after all.

"Oh, Ash, I don't know . . ." she began, taking a deep breath, "I don't want to tell you yet."

"Oh." Ash looked down.

"Ash, I promise you we'll find it," his mom smiled softly. Her eyes glistened with on-coming tears. "I just don't understand how . . . it could have just disappeared. It's impossible!"

"It doesn't make sense," Misty muttered, shrugging. "Unless . . . unless maybe . . ." She glanced down at Togepi and then at Pikachu, causing Ash's eyes to widen.

"No, Misty, Pikachu wouldn't have taken it," Ash protested. His glance met Pikachu's. "You didn't do anything with it, did you, Pikachu?"

"Piiika," Pikachu shook his head, waving his little arms about.

Ash slumped. "I didn't think so," he said. He looked up at Misty and Brock. "Pikachu didn't do it, and I didn't think he would. Why do you think he might have taken it?"

Misty held out her one free hand in defense. "Hey, I'm not accusing Pikachu!" she exclaimed. "It was just an idea. Sorry, Pikachu."

"Pi," Pikachu nodded, smiling and taking no offense.

All of a sudden, Delia got up, reaching up to wipe her eyes. Ash figured it was either tears or her sleepiness.

"I need some coffee," she said simply, placing a hand gently on Brock's shoulder as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. They remained silent.

Delia was astonished, her mind a mess of thoughts, all colliding together violently and recklessly. She dragged herself into the kitchen as if she was hauling a train behind her, shaking her head in disbelief. Reaching the counter, she leaned against it, much the way she had the night her ornament had been broken. She couldn't believe this was happening . . . no it _couldn't _be happening . . . 

She lifted her arm up to get a coffee mug from the cabinets above her head. The coffee had already been prepared by the automatic brewer, and she precariously poured herself a cup. Her hand shook as she poured. The warm steam made her feel a bit better, but her heart was still pounding furiously. She placed the coffee pot back in the machine, sniffed hard, and went for the milk.

Delia nearly dropped her mug upon opening the fridge. The huge gap where her succulent turkey once sat leapt out at her, causing her jaw to literally drop to the ground.

"Oh my God!" she shouted so horribly that Ash, Misty, and Brock careened in barely a second later. They surrounded the refrigerator, their mouths agape.

"What happened to the turkey?" Ash exclaimed. Pikachu hopped onto his shoulder and gasped.

Her eyes wide in alarm, Delia slammed the mug down on the counter and glanced back into the fridge once again, hoping and praying that it was just an illusion, that she wasn't really seeing this. It couldn't be . . . no . . . how could her turkey just _disappear_? 

"What is going _on_ here?!" she cried between clenched teeth. "This is not happening!"The kids just stared aghast. 

Shutting the door forcefully, Delia held her face frenetically. She began to pace the kitchen, her eyes shut and her head shaking back and forth. Ash, Misty, and Brock were rendered speechless, unable to grasp what was occurring. They all knew what had happened, of course, but the reality of it was far too shocking.

Delia stopped in her tracks and looked at them, totally in a state of disarray. "I can't believe it," she gasped. "We were robbed."

A chill ran through Ash. "W-we were?"

"Did they take anything else?" Brock asked, inducing Delia to shut her eyes almost painfully. She couldn't even begin to imagine what else might be missing.

"I hope not," was all she could reply. Needing to sit down, she rushed to the table and pulled a chair out. Her eyes stared at the ceiling.

"Kids, go back in the living room," she told them softly, not looking at them.

"But Mom," Ash said, "what are we going to do?"

Delia held her hand up and took a deep, calming breath. She knew she couldn't be upset, that she needed to focus. "We can't do anything right now Ash," she responded, giving him an easy gaze. "I want you guys to go in and finish opening your presents, okay? Let . . . let me take care of this."

"Is there something we can do?" Misty asked.

"No,'" Delia shook her head, trying so hard to fight the tears that were rushing to her eyes. This had never happened to her before, and as this event was unfolding before her, it seemed surreal. Especially being Christmas morning.

"Please, it . . . there's nothing we can do just yet," she said. "I don't want you kids to worry. I want you to have your Christmas morning, so please, go in and finish opening your presents, all right?"

They stood there instead, glancing uneasily at each other. Then, without a word, they sauntered into the living room and seated themselves on the couch, showing no enthusiasm to open another gift. Ash stared forlornly at the presents, not able to understand how this could have happened. Why was his present gone? And what was so . . . so_ special_ about it? 

All the while, Delia had got up to pace the kitchen again, trying desperately to compose herself, to organize her thoughts. She didn't know what to think or do. All she could think of was Houndoom, the Pokémon Ash should have been jumping around with at this time. Where was she now? Who had her? What disgustingly horrible person had her little boy's Pokémon, and worse yet, what was he or she doing with her?

Suddenly, her head shot up. "Professor Oak," she mumbled, racing to the phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed the number, finding the tears starting to conquer her. The line ringed a few times. 

"Hello?" Professor Oak sounded so happy at the other end. 

"Professor Oak!" Delia wailed into the phone, the first sobs breaking coarsely through her voice. 

"Delia?" he asked, panic rising in his voice. "What's wrong?!"

"Oh Professor Oak!" she cried, feeling herself become hysterical. Steams of tears drained from her eyes and down her cheeks. "It's . . . I was robbed last night!"

There was pause as this hit Professor Oak. "Oh my God, is everyone all right?"

"Yeah," Delia nodded. "We're all okay . . . but . . ."

"But what?" he asked rapidly. "What's missing?"

She cried loudly. "Ash's present, Professor . . . they took it . . ."

"Houndoom?! No!" he gasped. "No, you're not serious!"

"It's gone, Professor Oak," Delia mumbled, her words garbled. She kept the present's identity private as she knew she could clearly be heard from the living room. "They took it, and they took my turkey!"

"They took your turkey?" Professor Oak just sounded flabbergasted now. "Why would anyone take that?"

Delia sniffled hard. "I don't know! But they did! What am I going to do?"

Professor Oak cringed as Delia began to cry even more boisterously. "Calm down, Delia," he tried to soothe her in the calmest voice he could produce. "It's all right, everything's going to be okay. Just calm down."

"I can't calm down!" she whimpered. "What am I going to do, Professor?"

She could hear him breathing agitatedly at the other end. "Listen, first off, you should call the police. They'll come to help you. I'll be over in a little while, just as soon as I can get dressed. Okay?"

Delia could do nothing but accept. It was difficult, but she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered into the phone. She reached up to wipe her wet eyes. 

"We'll get Houndoom back," Professor Oak assured her. "I know we will. I'm going to help you, okay?"

"All right," Delia said. "But, why the present? Why couldn't they take the TV or the stereo? Why the present? How did they _know?!_"

"I don't know, I really don't. Is Ash okay?"

"Sorta," she replied. "He's trying not be act sad, but I know he is. I can't believe this happened. My poor boy . . ." She trailed off into sobs.

"Okay, Delia honey, I want you to stop crying and calm yourself," he said comfortingly. "Please, don't worry. I'm telling you this, I'm _promising_ you, that we're going to find Houndoom. All right? Just please, try to relax. I'll be over in two minutes."

Shutting her eyes to block the tears, she took a deep breath to let his advice soak into her. She needed to take it, and she reluctantly nodded. "Okay," she squeaked through a sob. "Please hurry."

"I will," he answered. "Bye."

She didn't even say good-bye back. Delia hung the phone up and shut her eyes, swallowing the rest of her tears. All she could do now was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**T**he dancing light of the fire wavered lightly off Jessie's face, bringing out the curves of her humble grin. She was totally hidden in the large blanket except for her hands, which popped out of it and folded before her eyes. In her hands lay the little red package, the tiny bow still dressing it and the tag flapping gently in the wintry breezes. The humble grin slowly grew.

She was thinking about what was in the present, what wonderful, rare, and impressive Pokémon it could possibly be. Christmas had come and gone, and as the sun set behind the Pallet Town mountains and a huge chunk of the Ketchum turkey roasted on the spit above the flame, Team Rocket was just settling in for a scrumptious dinner and a good, long night.

"Will it be ready soon, James?" Jessie asked gently, her blue eyes darting from the present to her partner. 

James nodded and beamed. "It took a while, but it sure is worth it!" He glanced at her fondling the present and quickly looked away, his smile diminishing.

Jessie smiled and looked down at the present once again, unopened. She had not even attempted to open the present since she had snatched it from under the twerps' tree, and to be honest, she didn't know exactly why. Thoughts of what it might possibly be stimulated her like nothing else, but at the same time she was pleasantly shaking, a little nervous to open it. Her anxiety caused the shivering, and each hour that passed made the feeling even stronger.

Jessie was going to open it eventually, but the excitement was too great. All day long she had gotten stares from James and Meowth, some of which were not all the pleasing. At times, Meowth looked a bit fed up, waiting for her to finally open the blasted gift to see if what they swiped was even worth it. James, on the other hand, didn't look too happy. She even caught him glaring at her at one point, but she simply looked down, finding that gazing at the gift created a more powerfully positive, and not to mention happy, feeling within her.

She didn't care what they thought. James was not enthralled with the idea, she knew that. But she would soften him up. As soon as he saw what was in this package, his mood would rapidly change. Jessie was almost certain of it.

Just as James was tediously ripping off some flaming hot pieces of the turkey and handing them to Meowth, Jessie suddenly burst. Her smile widened from ear to ear and she hopped up, her waiting process finally reaching its peak. She needed to know what was in the present, to know how big of a bonus they were going to receive and what their rank would increase to. 

"I can't wait any longer!" she proclaimed gleefully. "I need to know what it is!"

She grabbed at the bow on top and pulled it off swiftly, tossing it to the ground below her. But just as her fingers slipped under the taped paper to rip it open, she gasped as a thick hand grabbed hers, halting her in the process.

"Huh?" she uttered, startling. She looked up to see James staring down at her, his face flushed with concern.

Jessie narrowed her glare at him. "What are you doing, James?" she demanded, trying to yank her hand free of his.

"Please, Jessie, think about what you're doing first," he replied, his tone begging. She scowled, not believing what was going on.

"I don't understand you!" she cried. "All day long I've been looking at this present, and you haven't said a thing! What gives now?"

James sighed and shook his head. "I thought you were thinking about it," he explained softly. "That you were trying to decide. I wanted to see if you would make the right decision on your own."

"The right decision?!" she spat. "James, what the heck is the matter with you?"

His pleading eyes glistened into hers. Breathing quite heavily, James' face lowered. "Nothing is wrong with me, Jess," he answered. "I just . . . I just think this isn't right."

"Since when do you think of things being right?" she questioned, causing James to draw back. She was right in a way; this was not the way he normally acted, but this time was different. If only she understood . . .

"I don't," he admitted, shrugging. "I don't usually care if things are right to do, but this is different."

Jessie turned away, but James clutched her chin gently and pulled her head back so that her attention would be his. "What you have there is somebody's _Christmas present_, Jessie. Whether it be the twerp's or some other little loser kid's, it's still a present, and it's still theirs. This is different from anything else we've ever stolen. I want you to think about it, Jessie. Could you imagine not getting a present on Christmas? I don't know about you . . . but I certainly couldn't."

He released her chin after that and turned back to the fire, glancing down at Meowth, who had watched the whole thing speechlessly, a turkey wing clamped between his paws. Meowth's eyes lowered from James' to Jessie's. Her mouth was agape as she stared at James' back, almost like she was expecting more. When a few moments passed, she closed her mouth and looked at the present, making no movements as to continue what she had begun. Meowth could feel himself reclining, much to his confusion. 

"I don't care what you do with the present," James suddenly said, jerking Jessie's head up. His back was still turned to her and he was speaking in an inaudible tone. "Give it to the Boss, get your raise, whatever. I just don't want to be a part of it."

_James . . ._ Jessie thought, blinking long and hard. She wanted to say something to him, but nothing came to her lips. Her words were locked in her mouth, bouncing around in her mind. Keeping her eyes once more on James for a quite a few seconds, she glanced down at the present, to that same tag she had read disgustingly that night to her friends.

_To my Ash. Merry Christmas. Love, Mommy_.

Turning it around, Jessie looked at the part of the wrapping she had slightly detached. She gently pressed the tape down again and twirled it upright. She wanted to know what was inside more than anything. This present could be their ticket out of the miserable life they endured, the difference between further neglect from the Boss or being handsomely promoted. What great things this one little present could bring . . .

But . . . why couldn't they have it all together?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**"T**hank you so much for dinner, Professor Oak," Delia said gratefully, giving him a warm smile as he opened the door for her and Ash. "It was wonderful."

"Yeah, thanks," Ash smiled softly, zipping his coat to his chin. He held Pikachu snugly in his arms. "It was really delicious!" 

"You're welcome," he replied. "It's the least I could do."

"Well, we really appreciate it," said Delia, resting her hands lovingly on her son's head. She gazed down to look into Ash's tired face, then smiled back at Professor Oak. "It's been a hectic day."

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes, it has. I'm glad you came. I hope you had a nice time."

That morning, Officer Jenny had checked out the house for any clues supporting the robbery, but other than the unlocked kitchen door and a few tracks of dirt on the carpet, there were no dead giveaways as to whom may have been in the house that night. All she could do was promise to be on the lockout for the criminals, especially since it had been a Pokémon that was stolen. Delia filed the report, teary-eyed, as Professor Oak looked on with support. Ash, Misty, and Brock had sat silently on the couch watching the action and answering a few simple questions from Officer Jenny.

It had certainly been an odd Christmas morning. After Jenny had left, Professor Oak stuck around for a short while, talking to Delia and the kids and watching them open their remaining presents. It was not as thrilling as it had been previously, the joy having been completely sucked out of the occasion. It pained Professor Oak to see such sadness on such a lovely day, especially that of Delia and Ash, both of who constantly looked like they were about to cry. Ash fought the urge more than his mother did, but it was still present in his droopy expression and quiet voice.

When the subject of the turkey came up, the delectable dinner that Ash and Delia were to have feasted upon that night, Professor Oak made no hesitation to invite them to dinner with his family. They accepted the offer humbly. 

They had a good time, but it didn't seem that way the whole time. Delia had her down-spells when she glumly remembered the reality of what had happened, shaking and holding her head in her hands often. Ash was blue, which was totally expected and understandable for numerous reasons. Misty and Brock went home earlier that day, barely making their bus after Ash insisted on the prolonged hugs that he gave them. It was evident he missed them, being more quiet and withdrawn than he normally was. His normal spunk only made an appearance certain times during the night, and a lot of the time he looked as if he was engaged in deep thought. Probably thinking about his present, Professor Oak had figured.

The dinner had done them good. Professor Oak felt this, particularly now as he saw them out for the night, their smiles thankful and warm. He was glad that at least something nice was there for them, to help them through their dispirited Christmas.

"We had a very nice time," Delia replied. "Thank you."

"Oh, stop thanking me," Professor Oak grinned. "You two deserved all of it. I'm so sorry for what happened today."

Delia and Ash could only nod as the cold drifted through the doorway and into the house.

"Get home safely, okay?" Professor Oak said worriedly. "I don't need anything else happening to you kids."

"I know, right?" Delia answered with a grin. "Goodnight, Professor," she said, ushering Ash out the door before her.

"Goodnight Professor Oak," Ash repeated. "Merry Christmas!"

"Pika pika!"

"Goodnight and Merry Christmas to you, too," he said, giving Delia a compassionate smile as they left. He then looked down at Ash. "And we'll find your present, Ash. Don't you worry now."

Ash smiled weakly. "I'm not worrying," he said. "I know we'll find it."

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes, we will. All right, goodnight."

They waved good-bye as they walked briskly from the house and down to the car at the base of the hill. Professor Oak watched them attentively till they got to the car and began to drive away before closing the door.

Not three minutes later, Delia opened the house and let themselves in. She was sure to lock it in all places, wondering at the same time what was the purpose if the crooks got in anyway. When she was done, she turned to see Ash kneel down beside the tree to turn it on, staring up at it in marvel afterwards. She smiled, and gently knelt down beside him.

They looked at the tree together in silence for a few moments before Delia pulled her son into a tight hug, tears beginning to once again sting her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, my baby," she whispered into his head, cradling his head.

Ash hugged back. "It's okay, Mom. You had nothing to do with it."

Delia tried to block the tears by shutting her eyes forcefully. This was not fair for Ash. Why did he have to suffer? Why couldn't they have taken anything else? Nothing but the present and the turkey had been taken. Delia would have gladly handed over her money, jewelry, anything . . . to get back Ash's gift. Would they ever find it again? She tried not to ask herself this question, feeling a pang of fear sweep through her each and every time.

"I promise I'll get it back for you," Delia said fervently, kissing his cheek. "I don't know how, or what I'm going to have to do, but I promise you I'll find it."

Ash nodded, even though it was difficult with the hug he was restrained in. His eyes never left the glistening tree. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too," she replied, her voice still barely above a whisper. "I hope you had a least a little bit of a nice Christmas."

"I did," Ash said. "Professor Oak's dinner was nice. I like being with his family. They're really nice."

"I know," Delia smiled softly. "That was very nice of him."

Ash was quiet for a moment. "Did you have a nice Christmas, too, Ma?"

Delia sighed dolefully. "Yeah," she lied. "Yeah, Ash, I did."

Another pause. "Mom? I think I'm going to go to bed," he announced, breaking gently out of the hug. He placed a hand on Pikachu's head and rubbed it. 

"Oh . . . okay," she said, sounding a bit surprised. "Are you sure, honey? It's kinda late, but you don't have to go to bed. I thought maybe you'd like to watch a Christmas movie or something."

Ash smiled at his mom's offer, but he shook his head. "Nah," he replied, shrugging. "I'm kinda tired."

Delia reached out and caressed his chin. "All right," she said. She smiled as Ash got up and stretched. "Don't get too scared sleeping alone tonight, Ash."

Ash playfully scowled at her. "I'll try not to," he giggled. He looked down. "I miss Misty and Brock."

She smiled sympathetically. "I know you do. They miss you too, I'm sure. You can call them tomorrow, all right?"

Nodding softly, he started up the stairs, Pikachu jumping up ahead of him. "'Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, precious. Sleep tight." 

"Okay."

Delia watched her son ascend the stairs, her eyes blinked long. _Poor little guy_, she thought sadly. _You don't deserve this . . ._

She stayed up after that, making herself cozy on the couch with a steaming cup of tea and a randomly chosen Christmas movie. She hoped that it would make her feel somewhat better, to try to boost her spirits. The movie was making an honest attempt, but after a while she just couldn't care anymore. She left it on, but eventually her eyes began to droop and she would nod off into sleep briefly. Even after falling asleep and waking up many times, she still had no ambition to get up and go to bed. With the fire crackling beside her and the tree shining on the other side, she didn't want to leave. The room was warm and comforting, a feeling that Delia felt considerably welcoming . . . a feeling she wished the whole day would have had . . .

STAY TUNED FOR THE CONCLUSION!


	3. Part 3

__

(Pallet Town Presents)

The Night After Christmas

__

by Spruceton Spook

Part 3

****

Jessie's eyes were becoming fuzzy. She could feel them throbbing, stinging at the corners as they continuously watered. It was the fire, she figured, not blending well with the sleepiness that she had been fighting for a good portion of the night. Glancing briefly at her teammates, all snuggled into their thick sleeping bags with the zippers pulled way over their heads to beat the cold, Jessie shivered and brought her blanket closer to her.

Sleep was one of the last things on her mind. She was tired, all right, and the sight of the warm sleeping bags seemed extremely enticing, but she couldn't settle in yet. There was something on her mind, something that had powerfully captivated her since earlier that evening. 

Jessie lowered her gaze to the ground, setting her eyes on the little red present that sat gently and quietly beside the fire. It had been sitting there for quite some time, constantly stared at by the girl minutes at a time. Forcing herself to move from the long position she had cemented herself into, Jessie reached over and picked up the present delicately, feeling the same smooth paper slip against her skin as it had done since the first time she held it under the Ketchum Christmas tree. Bringing herself back into her comfortable stance and pulling her knees warmly to her chest, Jessie held the package carefully. 

Her lips pursed as she rotated it. She was not getting the same jolt of thrill by holding it as she had previously. Nothing had been the same recently. Not since she had begun receiving the undeniably odd looks from James and the ambiguously hostile words he uttered. Jessie had thought that certainly by now James would have been enthusiastic, jumping about in excitement over what they had their hands on. Instead, he'd barely said a word to her from the time dinner was over till when he went to bed, muttering a listless "goodnight" and nothing else. 

Meowth had kind of stuck neutral, not really caring what was to be done. As much as the thought of the present and what it could bring them, he also rationalized much of what James was saying. He never dared to say that he felt bad for Ash, but Jessie could sense it anyway. The Pokémon had given her glum looks as well throughout the night, but he had spoken more often to her and didn't act as accusing as James was.

The wind blew roughly, rustling the tree branches above her head. Another shiver ran up her spine; not from the cold, but from the sounds around her. With the silence from her sleeping companions and the fire's desolate crackling, she felt alone. But _why_ was she feeling alone?

Jessie found herself looking at James. Through the bundled-up sleeping bag, she could catch a glimpse of his face and his stringy, blue hair popping out from the sides. Her mouth curved into a small, dreary grin. He was so distant tonight, so far away. Even though the reason for it Jessie knew, she still didn't understand it. What had gotten into James? He was compassionate and sympathetic, but he'd never shown the side of him when it came to their heists. That was something he normally kept to himself, something that he applied only to their personal affairs and other situations that didn't formally involve them. And for the twerp to boot! If James was anything like she thought he was, she would have figured he'd have been happily delirious over this event, totally up for it.

But he wasn't, and it worried Jessie. No, it didn't worry her . . . it frightened her. How James was acting around her was rare. It was rare enough to make Jessie's stomach sink every time she thought of it, pondering what was making him think this way, and more yet, what she could to make it better. The intensity of disappointment in every word directed to her was not establishing well in her at all. She grew cold when she heard them, when she recalled them. 

Jessie took her eyes away from James, allowing the pathetic grin to sink into a more distressed frown. She knew there was one way to make it all better. One way to bring back the James she knew. The words that he'd told her earlier, the prompting to go to the Boss with the gift -- without him -- and take the bonus, take the promotion . . . what did that mean, exactly? Certainly it couldn't mean that . . . that if she didn't give up the gift, they'd . . .

Taking a huge breath, Jessie attempted to clear her mind. It didn't work. Nothing was going to work. She was hit with a choice, a most difficult one. It seemed so surreal, so delusional, and yet it was happening. It was true. Maybe -- maybe she would wait for tomorrow, and James would feel differently, but something was telling her no. 

It was James or the gift.

Her eyes shut tightly and her teeth clamped firmly onto her bottom lip. The cold air struck her teeth fiercely. Wishing she could just sleep through the night and have everything turn out wonderfully in the morning was just a figment of her imagination. She knew it wasn't going to go away, that James had fixedly planted the decision within her. He was a clever one, he was. If there was one thing he wanted her to do, he succeeded. He wanted her to think.

And Jessie had thought. The tag, its loving message in the beautiful cursive writing, struck her differently each time she read it. A few times, whether it be the result of her conscience or the tricks of her tiring eyes, she could see Ash's name erased from the tag, replaced with her own. She was never going to get a present from _her _mother again. The thought brought heart-wrenching tears to her eyes, mixing together with the concept of what was occurring now. She wondered what Ash had thought this morning when he noticed his gift gone . . . what they had _all_ thought. Ordinarily, Jessie would have delighted in such pathos, but something was different this time.

James was right. What Jessie had so disgustedly contradicted earlier was catching on to her now. It was cascading through her body and grabbing her, warring with every devious notion she held of the situation. Throwing one more gaze at James, who had since shifted in his sleeping bag to lay on his belly, she sighed. The fire was dying, the night was drifting on. 

It was an effort to stand, but Jessie managed. Quietly, she stooped beside her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the tiniest slip of paper and a pencil. Resting the paper on her knee, she scribbled a few words on it and thrust it under the bow of the present. Her eyes never left James as she left the camp quietly, holding the present with care and the blanket wrapped around her. With a defeated slump of her shoulders, Jessie headed back towards the Ketchum residence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**F**or about the tenth time that night, Delia yanked herself out of slumber. Straightened herself once again, she nuzzling her back into the comfy pillow behind her, pulled her knees to her chest, and watched the television. She figured it was about time she went to bed, especially since she didn't feel like conking out for the whole night on the couch. Not only did she find it irritating, since most of the time the TV would still be on, but she'd have to live out the day with the worst backache imaginable.

She stared at the TV for a while, her eyes becoming more droopy by the minute, barely taking in the old sitcom that ran before her. She needed to get to bed now, she knew it. It was the chore of actually getting up and taking herself to bed that held her back. It didn't sound too desirable, but just as her head dropped and she could feel sleep taking control of her again, she shook herself, switched the TV off, and swung her legs out from under the blanket.

Groaning as she got up, she rolled her eyes at how she could allow herself to be up so late. She fussed over Ash about it; maybe Ash should begin fussing over her. Grinning at the thought, Delia yawned and slipped her feet into her slippers. Her feet dragged along the floor as she made her way to the tree to shut it off for the night. 

Delia froze just as her finger was about to flip the switch off. Her heart leapt abruptly to her throat as she let out a small, frightfully startled gasp, her eyelids widening like flapping window shades. 

Someone had just knocked on the door. No, they hadn't knocked -- they had pounded. Someone had just pounded viciously on the door.

For a moment, she kept completely still, listening for another knock. She hoped, partly, that there wasn't going to be another, that perhaps it was just her imagination, a trick caused by her sleepiness. Slowly turning around, she caught the time on the mantel: almost eleven thirty. Who would possibly be knocking at this time of night? Hopefully, no one . . .

The pounding came again, sounding almost angry this time. Delia's heart raced even faster, pumping wildly in her chest. Her stomach tightened painfully, as did every muscle in her body. There was someone definitely at the door . . . but who? Delia wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.

She didn't dare touch the switch of the tree, leaving it on as she got up as quietly as she could off the floor. For a moment, she didn't even want to move. Maybe the visitor would realize that everyone was asleep, that coming at this time was preposterous in the first place, and would leave. But then there was the strong, yet incredulous idea in Delia's head that perhaps . . . perhaps this was the same individual that was there the night before, making sure everyone was asleep before making the next move . . .

Delia shut her eyes, her breathing becoming coarse. Her fear sky-rocketed rapidly, and she silently began to pray in her mind. She wondered if she should call someone, maybe the police, her neighbors. Just someone to help her in case something was in fact wrong. 

After a few minutes, the knocking never returned. But that didn't make Delia feel any better. She could see the no movement outside, nor could she hear anyone at the doorstep. She wondered if they were gone, or if they were just standing as silently as possible, hoping that she was going to open the door. Delia was frozen as solid as stone. There were so many choices, yet she didn't know which one to take. However, when she did begin to walk, she found herself inching her way to the phone. Her eyes never leaving the door, she picked the cordless up gently, and turned it on, her heart not ceasing to thump insanely.

Cringing as each press of the buttons beeped loudly, Delia was overjoyed when the dialing was over. She brought the phone to her ear with her shaky hand, praying that the line would pick up. Help was all she needed . . .

The phone rang again and again. Tears coming to her eyes, Delia began to hop fearfully in place.

"Please pick up, please pick up," she muttered in a deep whisper into the phone, terrified hiccups breaking through her pleas. She wondered why she hadn't just called the police . . .

"Hello?" It was had been about the seventh ring before Professor Oak answered the phone, his voice groggy, apparently being brought out of sleep.

Delia was too afraid to talk, but she forced her mouth to move. "Professor Oak," she squeaked, her tone conveying sheer terror. "Oh my God, thank you for answering . . ."

"Delia?" he asked confusingly. "What's wrong?!"

"There's someone banging at my door," she told him, beginning to chew nervously on her long fingernails. 

"There is?" he asked, his voice lowering to the volume of hers. "They're still there?"

"I don't know," she answered, still whispering. "They knocked twice, _really_ hard, but they haven't in a few minutes. I'm scared."

"Don't be scared," he told her. "Just stay away from the door and the windows. Be very quiet."

"I know, but it's hard," Delia cried. "I don't know if I should go get Ash and get out of here, or call the cops, or look out the window . . ."

"No no, I told you, don't look out the window. Don't do that. If you're really worried, maybe you should call the police," Professor Oak suggested. His voice stuttered around as he fumbled to think of what to say. "Unless you want me to call them for you."

Delia thought for a moment. "No," she said. "I don't . . . I don't want to have a bunch of cops here right now. I don't want to scare my boy. I just . . . I don't know. . ."

"Look, do you want me to come over?" he asked. "I mean, I can drive by and see if there's someone there."

Delia was silent again, her eyes blazing at the front door. No sounds arose, but she wasn't sure if that was calming her or making her even more nervous. "Would you do that, please?" she said gently, her voice quavering. "Please? Especially if no one's there, I don't want to have the police here and all."

"Okay," Professor Oak answered reassuringly. "I'll have my phone with me and I'll call if I see anything. All right? Just please don't be scared, I'll be right over."

"Thanks," Delia nodded. "Sorry to be bothering you so much lately, Professor Oak," she added, unbelievably managing a shaky chuckle.

"No, it's okay," he answered. "This is different. Let me go now. Just be careful, and _don't open the door_."

"Okay."

"Bye."

Delia kept the phone clutched fiercely in her palm after turning it off. She remained perfectly still, her eyes darting nervously from the door to the window. She didn't know what she would do if she actually caught someone looking in on her or attempting to break in. Everything was a swirl in her mind, and she found herself becoming slightly dizzy. Her fear of what had happened the night before, how someone had been in her home and she hadn't even_ know_ it, made this unexpected event utterly horrifying.

Delia stayed that way for a good five minutes. What was taking Professor Oak so long? As the time rolled by, she began to tremble. At least the pounding had not returned, otherwise she wouldn't have known what to do. 

She nearly screamed as the cordless went off in her hands, breaking her from her ghostly, attentive silence. Fighting to catch the breath and calm her tumultuously beating heart, her shaky fingers pressed the receiving button.

"H-hello?"

"It's me." A quivering smile pulled at Delia's lips. Her eyes closed in thankful relief. It didn't last long, however, as another hard knocking came upon the door, causing her to leap in place.

"No, Professor, they're back!" he shrieked into the phone. "The knocking came back!"

"Shhhh," he hushed her. "No, Delia, no . . . it's me. I'm at the door."

It took a moment for Delia to grasp this. "You are?" she asked, gulping. "It's really you?"

"Yes," he said in an assuring tone. "I'll knock again." Two knocks resounded. "Nobody else is here, don't worry. It's just me."

Though Delia trusted him, she still felt weary as she approached the door, her restless free hand extending to the knob. Before opening, she pulled back the curtains of the door windows apprehensively and poked her head around to see out. Sure enough, the professor stood on the other side, his cell phone attached to his ear.

"It is you," she laughed ruefully.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied, waving to her from outside. "So, you going to let me in, or what? It's dark and scary out here."

A smile sweeping across her face, Delia opened the door. Professor Oak grinned as their eyes met, bringing the cell phone down and switching it off. His other hand was behind his back.

Delia came out, her smile fading to a look of confusion and still a tad of nervousness, and scanned the area of her front yard. It was so quiet, so peaceful out. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to settle.

"No one's out here, Delia," Professor Oak said calmly, looking about as well. 

Delia gave him a sad look. "You don't believe me then, do ya? I must seem totally whacked-out right now, huh?"

Professor Oak did a sort of half-shrug, his eyes rising. "Oh, I don't think that at all. There was someone here."

"There was?" Delia asked, her fear creeping back into her voice. Professor Oak immediately put on a smile to calm her.

"They're gone now," he said, nodding and placing a hand on her trembling shoulder. "But they left something behind."

Cocking a confused eye, Delia nearly did a flip of shock as Professor Oak pulled his hand out from behind his back. In his flattened palm, Ash's present sat wobbly, its bow and tag blowing softly in the cold wind.

Delia's face illuminated in pure surprise, her eyes widening as much as they could. Gasping, she covered her open mouth with her hands, shaking her head back in forth in utter disbelief.

"Oh my God," she muttered inaudibly. "How -- w-where?"

Professor Oak smiled. "It was just sitting on the doorstep here. I couldn't believe it myself."

Breathing heavily, Delia reached out to take the gift from his hand, holding it in astonishment. Slowly but surely, her bright, overjoyed smile swept from ear to ear, and out came a shriek of glee. 

"I can't believe it," she exclaimed, small laughs of skepticism escaping her. "I just can't believe this . . ."

"And look," Professor Oak said, pointing to the slip of paper underneath the bow. "The person left you a message."

"Huh?" Delia lowered her head to read the scribble, reciting it out loud as she did so. "_I'm very truly sorry. Please accept my apology, I know what I did was wrong. Please have a nice Christmas. I'm sorry_." 

They were silent for a second as they took it in. 

"You didn't see who this was?" Delia asked.

Professor Oak shook his head. "I didn't see anyone. They must have just knocked that second time and left."

"Probably loud enough to just wake us up," Delia mumbled in assumption, her smile hardly beginning to diminish. She marveled at the unbelievable miracle that had just occurred. After all, whoever heard of a criminal that returned what they had stolen?

Realizing that she was keeping Professor Oak standing in her cold doorway, Delia suddenly perked. "Oh, come in," she offered, stepping aside to let him slip through. She closed the door, her attention never leaving the gift.

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked her, smiling.

"Ooh," she shook her head happily, "I gotta go get Ash. I can't wait any longer, especially now. This is so unbelievable!"

"He'll be in for quite a shock," replied Professor Oak. 

Delia nodded, handing Professor Oak the gift. "Here," she said. "Wait down here while I go get Ash, okay?"

"Sure," he said. He then turned around and pointed towards the back door. "In fact, I'll be out back. You know he'll want to see Houndoom right away and I assume you don't want that in the house."

Delia grinned. "You know me," she answered. "All right, we'll be down in a minute."

Professor Oak nodded while Delia sprang up the stairs, all of her sleepiness completely expunged, taken over by stimulated excitement. She couldn't wait to get Ash downstairs, to finally hand him the gift she waited so long to give him, to see his face light up in a way that made her body shiver with pure ecstasy.

Fumbling around in the dark hallway, she approached Ash's door quietly and opened it just the same, not wanting to startle her poor boy and scare him half to death. She entered the dim room and tip-toed over to his bed, silently climbing up the ladder. Gazing over her sleeping son, his outline lit solely by the faint glares of the moon, she beamed.

"Ash?" she whispered softly, ever so gently giving him a shake. "Honey, wake up. Ash!"

She did this a few times before the lump under the blankets began to stir, and Ash began to moan tiredly.

"Mmmisty!" he grumbled in garbled tone. "Lea me lone, I wan sleep."

Delia laughed. "No, sweetheart, it's Mommy. C'mon, wake up."

More grumbling came from Ash as he lifted his wearied head abruptly. "Mama? Whuz matta? Why you wake me up?" he mumbled groggily. His head fell to the pillow again.

"C'mon, Ash, I have something to show you," she replied warmly, pulling his blankets off. "You'll really like it."

Ash sat up in bed, his hand immediately going up to support his sleepy head. "But Ma, I'm tired."

Delia giggled gently. "I know, honey, I know. But trust me, you gotta see it! C'mon now, come with me. Get up, get up!"

"Mmmmm," Ash moaned as he kicked his legs free of the blankets. Delia stepped off the ladder and stood at its base while Ash attempted to get down it, but with his sluggish limbs and dormant mind, he stumbled going down.

"Whoa!" Delia exclaimed, catching Ash in her arms as he fell into her. "Easy there. Be careful, honey."

"Mm-hmm," Ash replied, not attempting to let go of her. With a smile, she graciously held him in a loose hug as he finished the descent down the ladder. He was wobbly when he stood, nuzzling his tired head into her warm side and shutting his eyes. Delia stroked his hair as she escorted him out of the room.

Ash became more awake as they made their way downstairs. He was surprised to still see the tree lit, but he was more shocked to learn that it was nearing midnight. He didn't understand what was going on. His mother never liked him up this late, so why was she waking him up at this hour? What could possibly be so important? Ash didn't even bother thinking about it, as it was difficult to think of anything at that moment but sleep.

They stopped at the base of the stairs, and Delia left him to grab his coat from the closet. "Here, Ash, put this on. It's cold out."

Ash scowled confusingly as she assisted him into the coat. "We're going outside? Why?"

Delia smiled, then went to get her coat. "You'll see," she happily replied. She called him over with a wave of her hand. "Come on, now. Hurry!"

Ash followed her through the kitchen and out the back door, still baffled as ever. He became even more confused when he caught sight of Professor Oak standing in his backyard, giving him a toothy smile as he walked out.

"Hi, Ash," he greeted energetically.

"Professor Oak?" Ash exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I dunno," he shrugged. "Was in the neighborhood."

"At _midnight_?" Ash asked, cocking his head. 

Professor Oak laughed, but said nothing else. Ash was about to ask more when suddenly he felt his mom's hand on his shoulder, and he turned to her.

"Ash," she said, her smile gleaming broadly. "I got a little surprise for ya, sweetie."

"What is it?" Ash asked. Delia grinned even wider as she motioned towards Professor Oak. Ash turned around once again to face the professor, only this time he had his hand out of his pocket, and in it lay a tiny red present. Ash's jaw dropped.

"M-my present?" he cried, reaching out to grab it. He held it in his hands, an incredulous smile taking over his face. He smiled first at Professor Oak, then spun around to face Delia. "You found my present?! This is it?"

Delia nodded. "That's yours, Ash. Merry Christmas."

"But . . . but . . ." Ash gazed at the gift with wide eyes. Delia and Professor Oak exchanged a short, cheerful look as Ash gaped over it.

"Where did you find it?" he asked, his voice climbing with jittery anticipation.

"Oh, that's not important, Ash," Delia said, shaking her head. "What's important is that we got it back. Go on, open it."

Ash looked down at it, his body shaking. He was too excited, too thrilled to even realize that it still needed to be opened. Softly, he pulled at the tag, and upon discovering that it really was his, he began to rip at the paper. 

Delia could hardly keep the smile off her face as she watched her son unwrap it, almost dropping the present at times. Finally, he got it all off and held the box in his hands, hesitating none in pulling it open. The look of pure, undeniable happiness and shock exploded to his face as he found out its contents.

Ash was at a loss for words. In the box sat a Pokéball, bright and new. His mouth wide open in amazement, he carefully pulled it out and held it. Feeling its slightly heavier weight, it took no thinking to realize that there was something in this ball, that it wasn't _just _a Pokéball.

His eyes darted to his mom, her hands shoved into her pockets with just the tiniest coquettish smile curving her mouth. 

"What is it, Mom?" he asked.

"Why don't you open it and see?" Professor Oak suggested.

The smile extended on Ash's face -- a crafty, little boyish one. With a shaky hand, he tossed the ball into the air, letting out a motivatingly loud: "Pokéball, go!"

With a brilliant flash of light, the form of a dog-shaped Pokémon materialized before their eyes. The Houndoom's head was lowered as she appeared clearly, and gave a swift shake of her fur, her ears flapping against her head back and forth and her devil-tail wagging between her legs.

"Oh, cool!" Ash hollered, his face lighting up with joyous shock. "It's a Houndoom!"

Delia's eyes widened immensely as she gawked at the creature, setting her shock on Professor Oak. "What do you mean that thing's not huge?! Compared to what, a _dinosaur_?" 

Professor Oak guffawed, just as Ash immediately turned to his mom, balling his fists. "You got me a Houndoom?!"

Giving a shake of her head, Delia laughed. "Yes, Ash, I got you a Houndoom," she replied relishingly.

Ash let out a whoop and jumped into her arms, grabbing her in the fiercest, loving hug his arms allowed him. He jumped up and down as they hugged, his excitement blasting into full mode. 

_"Thank you! Thank you! I love you!"_ he cried, reaching up to deliver his mom countless kisses to her cheek. 

"All right, all right," she chuckled. "You're welcome." He slid off of her and turned back to the Houndoom, who was now standing hunched in the cold air silently. Her eyes were wide and keen as she stared at the three humans before her cautiously.

Ash exchanged a short look with Professor Oak before he smiled gently at the Pokémon, lowering himself into a squatting position. He held out his cupped hand invitingly.

"Hi, Houndoom," he said carefully, watching the dog's ears prick as he called to her. "Come here. I'm Ash. I'm your new trainer."

"Hou?" Houndoom stood still for a moment before walking slowly over to Ash, lowering her nose into his palm to sniff it. Ash lifted his hand and brushed it over Houndoom's head, feeling her sleek black coat and the bony armor curved around her head. He massaged her comfortingly, allowing the Pokémon to relax at his touch.

Ash laughed quietly as Houndoom's eyes shut in content at the petting. He couldn't believe it. Now he understood what was so special about his gift. Where could it have gone, though? At that point, Ash no longer cared. As he heard Houndoom grumble in delight from the caressing, he felt a pleasing tingle shoot through him as he attempted to grasp the fact that this Pokémon was truly his.

"Looks like Houndoom likes you, Ash," Professor Oak said as he watched the two bond. 

"Well, I like Houndoom!" Ash zestfully replied, turning once again to Delia. "Mom, thank you so much. This is the greatest present _ever_."

"You're very welcome, Ash," she said. "I'm glad you like it."

Ash's eyes returned to Houndoom, who looked up into the boy's face interestedly. "We're going to be great partners, aren't we, Houndoom? Can't wait to show you to Misty and Brock! And Pikachu, too! You're going to like all of them!"

"Doom?" was all the Pokémon could reply. Suddenly, she thrust her head upward affectionately into Ash's chest, nuzzling her snout against his face. Ash giggled as her wet nose brushed his skin.

Delia couldn't help but admire the striking Pokémon whose head was cradled in her son's hands. She didn't care what the professor thought -- the thing still looked huge, but upon seeing its friendly and surprisingly calm disposition, she hardly worried. Tears pooled at the bases of her eyes as she watched the emotional moment, wondering why she hadn't brought her camera out. Whether the creature was big or not, it was utterly gorgeous and Ash looked ecstatic beyond a doubt.

Suddenly, she remembered what Professor Oak had told her earlier. "Ash, you know, Houndoom's probably really hungry. If you're careful with her, you can bring her into the kitchen to feed her."

"It's a her?" Ash asked, causing Delia to laugh.

"Yes, it's a her," Professor Oak sighed. "I should have attached a sign around her neck saying: _Hey, everyone! I'm a girl!_"

The other two laughed, and Ash got up from his squat. "All right then! C'mon, Houndoom, let's go get you some grub, okay?"

"Houn!" the Pokémon responded in a sharp bark.

However, before Ash was able to even start towards the house, Professor Oak spoke up. "Wait a second, Ash."

"Huh?" Ash stopped and looked back.

Professor Oak smiled. "That's not all. I have something else here for you."

"Really?" Ash asked, his eyes lighting up in stupefaction. Delia looked just as surprised.

Professor Oak nodded, and unzipped his coat just enough to pull something out of his inside pocket. Ash stood silently as he watched him reveal a bright green envelope, which he handed to Ash.

"Merry Christmas, Ash," he said with an ardent smile.

Ash was shocked as he took the envelope from his hands. "For _me?_"

"Professor Oak!" exclaimed Delia lightly, a dubious smile coming to her lips. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Yeah!" Ash agreed, feeling his body begin to shake again. "You didn't need to give me anything."

"No, no!" Professor Oak negated, shaking his head whimsically. "I insist. After seeing how sad you were on Christmas, Ash, I wanted to give you a present. It's just a little something, after all. Nothing big. I hope you like it."

Ash quieted, lowering his gaze at the envelope. It had no writing on it except for his name. He looked back up at Professor Oak's smiling face.

"Go ahead, open it," he encouraged with a laugh.

Ash turned around to face Delia. "Can I, Mom?"

Delia was still flabbergasted over the overly generous offer. They never exchanged gifts with Professor Oak before, but seeing the smile on the professor's face and the twinkle of gleeful hope in her son's eyes, she nodded. 

"As long as Professor Oak insists," she shrugged.

"Which I do," he confirmed, giving Ash a nudge.

Ash smiled humbly, turning the envelope around to pull out the folded-in tab. Inside was a long, check-like slip of paper, which Ash carefully took out. He set it in front of his face and looked over it silently, his face bunching in concentration. While Delia stood patiently waiting to see what it was, Professor Oak could detect the confusion Ash was experiencing. After all, the gift wasn't that straight-forward.

"Do you know what it is, Ash?"

Ash looked a little sheepish when replying. "It . . . it looks like some sort of contract or something."

"Well, sorta," Professor Oak said. Ash looked attentively at him, waiting for clarification. "That paper in your hands there is what I received after I put a baby Stantler on hold for you."

Ash's eyes widened and yet another exhilarated grin invaded his face. "A Stantler?!"

"Professor!" Delia exclaimed, shocked. She smiled.

"Mm-hmm," Professor Oak nodded, grinning at the responses. "You'll be getting it in a few weeks. It's just a few weeks old and it can't leave its mother yet. But when it does, it'll be all yours, Ash."

Ash was blown. "You're serious?" His voice was high-pitched in excitement as he clutched the contract in his hands, wrinkling it.

Professor Oak shrugged kiddingly, giving Ash a _what-do-you-take-me-for?_ look. To his surprise, Ash yelped and collided into him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Thanks Professor!" he cried fervently, pulling the hug tight. Professor Oak shook himself from the shock and hugged Ash back. "Thank you so _so_ much!"

"Heh, sure," he replied, chuckling. "You're welcome. You deserve it."

Ash pulled away and smiled up into his face, his brown eyes glistening with tears of happiness. He ran to his mom immediately after, hugging her once again. 

"This is the best Christmas ever!" he shouted, lifting the paper up to show Delia. "Look, Ma, I'm getting a Stantler, too!"

Delia was at a loss for words as she smiled, shaking her head. "Well, what else is more appropriate for Christmas?" she laughed.

Ash laughed, too, and released her. Houndoom stood at his feet, looking up at him alertly. Smiling widely, Ash bent down and wrapped his arms around the Pokémon's neck, resting the side of his face on top of her head. Houndoom maneuvered her head to lick Ash's face, inducing the boy to giggle.

"Come on, Houndoom, you must be really hungry now!" Ash said, and the Pokémon barked again. 

Ash started for the house then stopped. "Thanks again, Professor Oak!" he said, waving. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Ash," he replied. "Now go take care of that hungry Pokémon. And don't lose that paper now!"

"I won't! Don't worry!" answered Ash, bounding into the house with the scampering Houndoom behind him.

As the screen door slammed shut behind them, Delia sighed peacefully, shaking her head.

"You've got a great kid there, Delia," Professor Oak said commendably, giving her a nod as she turned to him.

"I do, don't I?" she agreed softly, gazing back fondly at the house.

"You sure do," Professor Oak laughed. "If he were one of my kids, he'd be asking: _'What else did you get me?'_"

Delia laughed, bringing her hand up to brush some of her stray hair away from her face. They were silent for a moment.

"Professor Oak, that was such a wonderful thing you did," Delia said kindly. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

Professor Oak waved it away, scowling softly. "I wanted to do it. He's a good kid."

Delia nodded, looking down at the ground. "Thanks," she said. 

"You don't know how much it bothered me to think of what you two were going through today," he said, shrugging. "As soon as you left tonight, I got right back in touch with those Houndoom breeders. They breed Stantler, too, so . . ." He grinned. "It was the least I could do."

"Well, I appreciate it, really," Delia replied, saying the same with her thankful face. "We've certainly made Ash happy, haven't we?"

"I think we've given him a double heart-attack," he chuckled. "He has a lot of new work cut out from him, but he couldn't be more thrilled. I know it."

Delia smiled and rubbed her chilly hands together. "Yeah, well I probably have more work cut out for _me_. I'm the one who needs to get him back to bed." She rolled her eyes in capricious agitation. She sighed fervently. "Well, it's incredibly late. Guess we should call it a night, huh?"

Professor Oak grinned. "Not yet," he shook his head. "I, uh . . . I have something else." 

"What?"

He reached into his pocket as Delia cocked a curious eye, wondering what else he could possibly have. He'd done enough that night . . . though she wouldn't have been surprised either if it were the Houndoom bill.

It was hardly that at all. Professor Oak pulled a tiny box out of his pocket, much smaller than Ash's present had been. Delia's face lifted when she saw it.

"Here," he said, handing her the gift. "Merry Christmas."

Delia's jaw dropped as her eyes set on the package. A present for her? She quickly shook her head and pushed his hand back. "No, no, Professor, you don't have to do that," she said, giving him a languid smile. "You don't have to give me anything."

"Yes, I do," he contradicted, extending his hand again. "Please take it. I'm insisting again. How could I give Ash a present and not you?"

Delia was ready to object, but as her eyes darted from the present to Professor Oak's pleading smile, she carefully took the gift in her hands. "Thank you," she whispered. "You really didn't have to."

"Oh, would you stop saying that? Just open it, please," he persisted placidly.

Delia gave him a fickle look before she gently tugged at the wrapping. Her eyes widened considerably as she pulled the paper off, revealing a jewelry box in her hand. Her heart leapt and she bit down on her lip, allowing her trembling hand to pull the box apart. Professor Oak just smiled as she did so.

"Oh my God," Delia gasped, her mouth agape in astonishment. She held the open case in her hands as the object twinkling into her bugged-out eyes. She reached in and grasped the precious treasure, a gold necklace. At the end dangled a Rapidash, pure gold as well, holding its front foreleg high in elegance. Its head was arched magnificently, but even more magnificent was the shine it flashed into Delia's eyes, which were wide with disbelief. They slowly rose to meet Professor Oak's.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

Delia was at a loss for words for a moment, gazing down at the necklace in her hands. She let it suspend in front of her face, taking in every part of its beauty and worth. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was so gorgeous, so pretty, so very _real_ . . .

"I -- I can't take this!" she stuttered, shaking her head swiftly as she offered the necklace back to the professor. He gave her a slightly pained look but then smiled, pushing her hand back.

"No, it's yours," he said calmly. "Take it."

"I can't!" Delia insisted again. Her eyes flickered reticently. 

"Don't you like it?"

"Are you kidding me?" Delia silently exclaimed. "I love it, it's beautiful! But I can't take it! I just can't accept it. It's too much!" She looked down to gaze at the beautiful necklace again. Her fingers brushed gently along the Rapidash's smooth body.

"I want you to have it, Delia," Professor Oak said. "After hearing how upset you were over your ornament, I knew you'd love this. I know it's not your ornament, but I thought it would suffice, no?"

Delia was still in disarray. "But . . . this -- this is real gold and all! It must be worth so much, I can't . . ."

"It didn't cost me anything." He smiled longingly. "It was my wife's. Her favorite was Rapidash, also."

"Really?" Delia sighed. "Then . . . then this must be special to you. I don't want to take it."

"Trust me, Delia," he said, "you'll get more use out of it then I will. Besides, it'll be nice to see someone wearing it again." He cringed slightly. "That is . . . if you'll take it."

Delia fell silent, her face ever so softly falling into a modest smile. "It's so beautiful, Professor Oak." Her eyes gleamed. "I just feel bad. I have nothing for you, I'm sorry."

Professor Oak shook her head. "Your smile alone is all I could've wanted," he replied, leaning over to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. "Take care of that for me, okay?"

"O-okay," she answered, biting down on her lip.

Professor Oak pulled back his sleeve to find out the time, which upon he sighed deeply. "Guess I'd better be going. It's really late, and you got a kid and an evolved Pokémon running around your house."

Delia brow furrowed. "Oh, do . . . do you want to come in for a moment? I can make coffee or something . . ."

"No," he smiled, shaking his head. "Thanks, but I really ought to be going."

"Okay." She looked down at the delicate necklace in her palm and then back at him. "Thanks again."

"Sure thing. Have a nice night, Delia. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she replied. She waved as he made his way around the corner of the house. Only after she heard his car start up and pull away did she walk calmly back to the house.

She shut the door behind her, leaning her weight against it as she slowly turned the lock. Pausing for a moment, she slid around to lean on her back, closing her eyes reposedly and taking a deep breath. Lowering her head idly, she opened her palm to take a glimpse at the necklace in her hand. A smile inadvertently crept to her mouth as she pushed it around with her finger, feeling its fragility and golden smoothness. 

Suddenly, she felt a rush go through her as she gazed at it, her heart speeding up just a bit. She needed to breathe hard to settle herself. The necklace was truly beautiful, something she felt she didn't deserve for some reason. Its beauty and shimmer seemed to stimulate her, the thought of where it had come from, its age and significance. As she looked at it more deeply, she found herself becoming mesmerized, the tiny Rapidash sprinting nobly in her mind. Professor Oak didn't need to do this . . .

"Mom?!" 

Her head was yanked up abruptly as her son careened into the kitchen, Pikachu and Houndoom hot on his heels. He skidded to a stop before her, his face positively glowing, giving her a strange, yet cheerful, look.

"Why is your face so red?" he asked.

Delia slipped the necklace into her coat pocket, shaking her head as she tried to find herself. "Oh . . . I -- I dunno. It must be the cold." She swallowed and smiled, extending her arms to invite him into a hug.

Ash melted into her arms, burrowing his head into her cold jacket. He didn't mind, though; he was too happy to think of anything else. Pikachu and Houndoom watched on, their heads held in attentiveness.

"I love you, Mom," Ash said, his words muffled as a result of his head being buried in her side. "You're the best."

Delia squeezed him hard, taking a deep breath in bliss. "I love you, too. I'm so happy you got your present."

Ash pulled away and smiled into her face. "Me, too."

Delia nodded, maneuvering her head to look down at Houndoom, her tail wagging gently and her head arching from the sudden attention. So that was what three hundred and twenty dollars looked like. It was worth every penny to her. Delia shook her head internally, wondering what a Stantler could possibly have cost Professor Oak. 

"So, what are you going to name her, Ash?" Delia asked, stooping down beside Houndoom to stroke her head. She was amazed at the firmness of the creature, how powerful it felt at touch. Delia feared to wonder what it looked like when fire shot from the Pokémon's mouth.

Ash smirked at her. "Mom, you know I don't name my Pokémon," he said, shrugging slightly.

"Oh, but you got to name her, Ash," she replied, lowering her hand to scratch Houndoom's chin. She looked utterly delightedly. "She's special."

Ash sat down on the floor, whereupon Pikachu immediately hopped into his lap. Houndoom moved her head from Delia's fingers and bent down to sniff the yellow mouse, causing Ash and Delia to chuckle. Pikachu just chirped happily as he reached up to touch Houndoom's nose. 

"Hmmm," Ash thought, rubbing his chin with his finger as he pondered a good name for the Pokémon. It was hard; he'd never had to do this before. But as Delia sat there smiling at him, awaiting his answer, he knew he needed to come up with a good one. After all, Houndoom _was_ special, and he needed to do it for his mom.

"How about . . ." Ash sighed, looking around the room. Suddenly, he perked visibly. "Eggnog!"

Delia had to laugh. "I think that's an _adorable_ name, Ash," she agreed, placing her arm around his shoulder and brining him close to him. "Very appropriate."

Her son beamed, petting Houndoom's head once again. "How do you like it, Houndoom? Would you like me to call ya Eggnog?"

"Hou!" she replied, letting loose her slobbery tongue over Ash's hand. Her tongue was considerably warm . . . almost hot. But it felt great, and Ash giggled.

"All right, then," he said. "Eggnog it is!"

Delia got up, yawning. "How 'bout some of the real stuff before bed?" she asked Ash, who got up right along with her. "It might help you get back to sleep."

Ash smiled. "Sure," he said. He looked down at Eggnog and Pikachu. "You want some, too, guys?"

"Pika!" Pikachu replied.

"Hou!"

Ash laughed. "Two more eggnogs, Mom."

After Ash set a bowl down for Eggnog and gave a small glass to Pikachu, he and Delia sat at the table with their own, watching the Pokémon playfully scowl as the liquid glided down their throats.

"You know what, Mom?" Ash asked after a short period of silence.

"What, honey?"

"This has really been the _best_ Christmas," Ash nodded matter-of-factly, blinking contentedly.

Delia couldn't have been more happy with that statement. She beamed. "I'm glad," she replied. "I guess after you look at everything and the way it all turned out, heh, you're right. It has been the best."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

**W**hy does it have to be so cold_?_ Jessie thought miserably as she trekked back to camp, bundling the blanket around her shoulders. The walk back had seemed a lot longer (and colder) than the walk to Ash's house. But as the faint glow of the fire caught her eye, she felt considerably better.

Jessie was surprised to see James sitting up before the fire, absent-mindedly poking it with a stick. Small sparks flew out into the dark as he did so. Upon hearing her approach, James startled slightly, his eyes widening.

"Jessie! There you are!" He began to get up but Jessie motioned for him to stay down. Her face glumly sagging, she set beside him and hunched from the cold, reaching her hands out to catch the fire's warmth.

James looked at her worriedly. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently. "Where were you? I was so worried!"

Jessie swallowed and looked into his eyes, smiling wanly. She shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards the fire, sighing heavily. James' eyes rose, and he managed a surprised grin.

"You didn't do it, did you?" he asked, giving her a nudge.

Looking back at him, Jessie nodded again. "You were right, James," she replied inaudibly, the wind blowing her hair behind her. 

James gave her a relieved smile, reaching his arm around her to pull her close to him. Jessie relaxed, feeling the extra warmth from his body spread to hers. Tiredly, she rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to rub her side up and down. She shivered delightedly at the touch.

"I'm proud of you, Jessie," James said silently, squeezing her. "You did the right thing."

Jessie nodded, though it felt like a mere nuzzle on James' shoulder. "I feel so much better about it, James," she replied, staring into the fire. She closed her eyes and nestled his shoulder. "It was hard, though. I mean . . . we had it right there, it was ours for the taking . . . but, I thought about what you said, and how wrong it was starting to feel . . ."

James chuckled, giving her side a small tickle. He felt Jessie jump. "I know," he said. "I'll be honest, I was getting excited about it, too . . . a little. But then I thought about it being Christmas and all . . . I hope you haven't lost respect in me," he giggled.

"No," she giggled in reply. "So, you're not upset with me anymore?"

"I never was upset with you," James answered. "I mean, we're Team Rocket, we're supposed to do things like that. And especially you . . . being so dedicated and all, I think it took a lot of heart and guts to do what you did. I'm very impressed, Jessie."

"You are?"

"Of course I am."

Jessie face fell again. "Could you imagine, though, what we could've been with that present? How much better everything would be?"

"Don't worry, Jess, we'll have opportunities like that again," he replied reassuringly. "And we'll get our respect sooner or later, I know it. Our day just has yet to come."

"You really think so, James?"

"I know so," he replied, resting his head on top of hers. 

"How about Christmas?" Jessie asked weakly, her voice lowering. "Will we ever have a nice Christmas?"

James smiled, bringing his hand up to stroke her long hair. "Jessie, I promise you, someday we're going to have the best Christmas ever. We'll have a beautiful tree -- even more beautiful than the twerps', and we'll have a nice warm house with a wreath on the door, and we'll have the biggest, most delicious turkey roasting in the oven . . ."

Jessie lifted her head softly. "Really?" she asked hopefully, setting it back down sleepily.

"Really," James replied, his warm breath blowing to her ear. "You and me."

"You and me . . ." Jessie repeated, her voice mumbling off into slumber.

__

The End

For all my pals in the Eldershipping Brigade . . . this one's for you, guys!!

****

Happy Holidays from Spruceton Spook!


End file.
